Familiar Fights and Foreign Feelings
by IfYouOnlyKnew
Summary: PRE HBP. It’s Harry’s 7th year and he’s hoping to have a trouble free time. He returns to Hogwarts only to find out that he has been appointed head boy one problem, someone else has been selected for the same job. HPDM slash!
1. The Horrible News

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters that belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling, nor do I own anything else owned by her, Warner Bros., or the other people who may have jumped onto the Harry Potter bandwagon. I'm not making any money here!

Thanks to my betas, winnett and beautifulrain! You guys rock!

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One: The "Horrible" News**

The train squealed loudly as it pulled into Hogsmeade Station on a stormy September 1st. Harry crumpled up the wrapper of his Pumpkin Pasty and put it in his pocket. He stood and stretched, reaching up toward the ceiling, arching his back. He felt content and happy getting ready to trundle up to the school to enjoy his final welcoming feast. It was rare for Harry to feel happy these days, and so he savored the emotion.

Neville Longbottom stood up too, stretching as Harry had. Harry had been sharing a compartment with Neville, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood. Ginny rose from her seat and began to pick up the discarded candy coverings that littered the compartment floor. Luna seemed to be counting the raindrops that rested on the window.

"3,366," she said dreamily, "that's a good sign."

Harry raised his eyebrows at her and decided to refrain from asking exactly why 3,366 raindrops on a window were a good sign. Instead he looked out of the window and up at the brilliant silhouette of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Here we are," Neville said in a voice that reflected the way Harry felt.

"Yep," Harry said, turning away from the scene before him. He pulled his cloak from one of the racks above the seats and put it on, following Ginny and Neville who had already filed out into the student-packed corridor. Luna had begun to recount the raindrops, just in case she had missed a few. Harry shook his head at her.

Once out into the passage he stood on tiptoe to see if he could spot his two best friends. Ron could be easily seen; his red head towered above the first years he was ushering out of the door. Hermione could barely be spotted next to him. An unseasonably chilly wind whipped past Harry as he neared the cold outside, and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

Ron patted him on the back as he slipped past. "Alright Harry?" he asked loudly over the chatter of hundreds of eager (and terrified) children. Harry smiled warmly at Ron and shook his hand in a joking manner.

"We'll meet you inside, Harry," Hermione said when someone further back yelled "HURRY UP!" Harry let go of Ron's hand and smiled at his friends once again.

"Okay, see you guys then," he said going out into the freezing cold. The wind blew his hood off and his hair immediately became drenched. He ran to catch up with Ginny and Neville; Luna was obviously still on the train.

The three climbed up into one of the Thestral drawn carriages and waited for the rest of the students to clamor off of the steam engine. Luna was the last to descend the few steps off the train and after she finally climbed into the carriage with the other three, they were off. Harry shook his head like a dog, splashing water all over his friends.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, wiping her face with the hem of Harry's robes.

Harry grinned. "Sorry," he said.

Luna looked at him happily. "That was refreshing," she said in a distant voice. Harry stared at her bemusedly.

He couldn't help but beam when they rolled up to the grand front entry of the castle. This was his final year at Hogwarts, his home. He'd had so many wonderful times, and some not-too-great ones, but he loved the place just the same.

The carriage stopped in front of the steps with a slight jerk and Harry and Neville opened the door for Ginny and Luna. The four of them strode with the crowd towards the welcoming doors of the entrance hall.

Once inside, Ron and Hermione, who had just finished routing the first years towards the boats they would travel on across the lake, greeted them. Their prefect badges gleamed brightly; signs of authority pinned on their robes.

Ron grinned as Harry approached them and said, "Well, have a good look around, because we're never going to see this again."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, we will," she said. "We still have all year."

Ron shook his head. "I know that! I meant that this is the last time we'll see the school on September 1st, the beginning of the school year."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, and the way you said it made it seem _so_ obvious."

Ron's ears turned pink and Harry, sensing an argument, immediately moved over toward Ginny. Ron and Hermione had been arguing over the littlest things since the end of the previous year. Harry figured that Hermione was getting tired of waiting for Ron to ask her out.

Ginny shook her head at Ron and Hermione and exchanged an exasperated glace with Harry. She marched over to the arguing friends and stood between them. "Honestly, you two," she said, "you're beginning to scare poor Harry." Here she threw him a grin.

"Oh, ha, ha," he said, grinning too.

Ginny turned her attention to Hermione, who was still looking rather cross. "I don't know why you're looking so sulky," she said, wiggling her eyebrows, "you _are_ about to be picked for Head Girl."

Hermione blushed, her anger very suddenly forgotten. "Oh- well- there isn't really any way to know that for sure…" but her face revealed that she indeed expected to be chosen, though.

"Oh come off it, Hermione," Harry said, picking up on the cheering attempt that Ginny employed. "You know full well that your name will be called as soon as they decide to announce the Heads."

Hermione smiled at Harry embarrassedly, but then a look of puzzlement appeared on her face. "I wonder why the staff has waited to announce the Heads at the feast. Usually the people who were chosen find out in their letters, don't they?"

Harry nodded, turning to Ron. "Ron, didn't Percy get his Head Boy badge in the post?" he asked.

"Yeah, and he showed it off the entire summer," said Ron, his anger forgotten too. That was another thing about Ron and Hermione's arguments; they stopped as quickly as they started. Harry turned back towards his brunette friend and shrugged.

"I've no idea why they've waited this year," he said.

"Perhaps they hadn't chosen yet when the letters went out," said Ginny matter-of-factly.

Harry shook his head. "How hard could it be to pick two people to be Head Students?" Ginny shrugged this time. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but closed it again when the large doors to the Great Hall swung open toward them.

Professor McGonagall stepped out, looking as stern as usual.

"You may all make your way into the Great Hall now!" she boomed over the packed entrance hall. "Take your seats and await the first years' arrival." There was an immediate hustle and bustle after her words. All of the students began trying to make their way through the oak doors.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their seats once inside and began to chat animatedly. Harry turned to Seamus Finnegan to discuss this year's Quidditch teams. Harry had been made captain.

Within a few moments the chatter in the Hall died out and the first years filed in through the side chamber door, which Harry could remember as if it were yesterday. He watched their terrified little faces whisper and stare. The stool and Sorting Hat were placed in the middle of the room and the first years were brought up to it.

It sang its song (which was different, once again), and then the long list of parchment clutched in Professor McGonagall's hands was unrolled. She began to call off names:

"Agie, Heather…"

"Devon, Murry…"

"Gwyhald, Joan..."

"Jucksta, Timothy…"

The list went on and on, but Harry was pleased to see that Gryffindor was granted quite a few promising new students. He watched as a nasty looking little boy was sorted into Slytherin.

_Slytherin_, if only that lot weren't there. Harry looked over at the long table filled with smirking and scowling faces. His eyes came to rest upon the king, or at least the prince, of all things evil. Malfoy looked bored and tired of sitting there as he leaned over carelessly to whisper something into Blaise Zabini's ear.

The two laughed loudly, not bothering to quiet down, even during the sorting. Harry narrowed his eyes with distaste.

Thank God he hadn't had to face him yet. His mood would certainly be ruined- it was already worsening from just staring at the ferret.

He disliked Malfoy more than any other person on the planet, except for Voldemort. He had heartlessly taunted Harry the year before about Sirius, even when it had been so fresh in his mind, and he reminded him of Malfoy Sr., who had been one of the main people involved in Sirius's death. Malfoy had been, and still was, angry with Harry for getting his father thrown into jail. He never missed the chance to try and initiate a fight; Harry wasn't quick to back down either.

Thinking back to last year, Harry had lost count of the many times that their wands had been pointed at one another. They'd had so many rows that people figured they'd broken a record of some sort, and all of that wasn't even counting the multiple brawls that Malfoy and Ron had gotten into.

Oh, if only Harry could strangle Malfoy right now, without anyone noticing. The idiot would collapse into his pumpkin juice and his stupid voice would never have to be heard again.

At that moment Malfoy looked up and noticed Harry staring at him. He flashed a white smile and raised his fingers to form a rude gesture. Harry glared at him but looked away, not wanting to ruin the feast.

Once the sorting was over, Dumbledore stood and said a few words of welcome.

"Hello and welcome, new and old students alike." His eyes twinkled. "I do hope that you enjoy our feast, and I also hope that you do not choke on any chicken bones… Please, if you will…" he waved a long arm and the tables were filled with food.

Harry laughed, eyeing a drumstick; he was certain it posed no danger and quickly dug into it.

Hermione looked anxious. "I thought he might have announced the Heads," she said a bit disappointedly.

"Oh don't get your knickers in a twist," said Ron, but he said it with a friendly smile. "He's waiting until the end; you know that's when he makes his real speech."

Hermione nodded. "I know," she said. "I'm just so curious." Ginny, Ron and Harry chuckled, amused as Hermione got stressed over school- as usual.

They ate the rest of their meal cheerfully, enjoying talk of sports, summer trips and other things. The thoughts of Malfoy were swept from Harry's mind as he reminisced and laughed with friends.

All too soon the feast was coming to a close and Harry didn't think he could swallow another bite. He felt stuffed and drowsy, and was glad that Hermione was about to be put in the best mood, quite possibly, that she would ever be in.

He watched as the food vanished from the tables and Dumbledore once again rose to his feat. The old man smiled and looked fondly around at his pupils.

"Hello, hello, children," he said in a bounding way, and then he paused and looked fondly around at his pupils. "But some of you aren't children anymore, are you? Some of you will be forever leaving our castle walls this year, and I can only hope that our halls of learning have provided you with more knowledge than boredom." He smiled widely at that. "Hogwarts, I have a very important announcement to make that directly concerns our older students."

Hermione literally shook from excitement.

"This year's Heads took a particularly long time to decide. In fact they were only chosen two days ago… This means that there were _many_ excellent candidates from which to choose. The two that have been chosen are surely the best for the occupation and I believe that they will do a phenomenal job of leading their fellow students." He took a moment to look around again, and oddly his eyes came to rest on Harry.

"The Head Boys are…" he took a long pause, "Harry Potter and…" Hermione beamed at Harry.

"You did it!" she whispered breathlessly to Harry, practically bouncing up and down. Ron slapped Harry on the back. Harry couldn't believe it. Had he heard correctly?

Dumbledore cleared his throat to signal that he wished to speak again. The chatter (and cheering from the Gryffindors) that had broken out upon Harry's name being announced was suddenly no more.

His blue eyes sparkled in an almost mischievous sort of way as he readied himself for his next statement.

"… And Draco Malfoy."

Harry's eyes widened with bewilderment. What the hell? Hadn't _he_ just been chosen for Head Boy?

He looked to Hermione, but she was merely staring at Dumbledore, mouth slightly agape, her eyes filled with no emotion except utter confusion.

Everyone else seemed confused as well and Dumbledore, not surprisingly, offered no explanation. He simply beamed.

"Well, boys," he said happily, "come up here and get your badges."

Harry glanced across the hall at Malfoy who looked just as befuddled as he was, then down once again at Ron and Hermione who were both still apparently in shock.

"Boys?" Dumbledore asked still smiling.

Harry didn't know what else to do. He stumbled out of his seat and began to make his way up to the head table, feeling very much like he had when The Goblet of Fire had spit out his name.

Malfoy walked slowly up with Harry. When Harry reached his destination he stared blankly at Dumbledore, who pinned a shiny badge bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms to his chest. Then he watched as he pinned an identical badge to Malfoy's chest.

"Congratulations," Dumbledore said quietly to Harry and Malfoy. "Your room isn't ready yet so you can both stay in your old dorm rooms tonight-"

He was cut off by Malfoy's sharp words. "What's going on?" Malfoy asked, "why have Potter and I both been chosen for Head Boy?" His eyes flashed angrily.

"I'll explain all of that tomorrow," Dumbledore said to the fuming blond. "It's much too late tonight."

Malfoy opened his mouth furiously but Dumbledore stopped him from saying anything when he boomed out to the rest of the school, "How about a nice big round of applause for our two Heads, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Silence echoed in the Hall until the staff started clapping, slowly joined by the rest of the students.

Harry didn't say anything as Dumbledore briefly went over the basic rules for the first years and then dismissed the students.

"Come see me tomorrow after your classes, I'll be in my office and we can all discuss your rules and responsibilities. The password into my office is Ice Lolly. Oh and your password, Harry, is Aconite, and yours, Draco, is Absolute Power."

Malfoy let out a low hiss. "Professor," he said in a tone resembling Snape's, "Potter and I are not in the same house, now we both know each other's passwords."

Dumbledore stared at Malfoy, an amused look upon his aged face. "I'm aware of this, Mr. Malfoy," he said with the same smile that had not once left him. "You both will learn all of the house passwords; after all you're the Head Boys, not prefects. It's your duties to look after all of Hogwarts' students- not just those of your own houses." Malfoy clamped his mouth shut, glaring

"Now both of you get on up to bed, it's getting late. And don't forget to meet me tomorrow." With that Dumbledore sent Harry and Malfoy out of the Hall with the rest of the students.

Harry walked with Malfoy to the doors of the Great Hall, standing rather far away from him. They stayed walking together until Malfoy came to the staircase he had to descend. He turned to Harry and threw him the nastiest look he probably could before heading out of sight.

Harry was still far too shocked to be angry. He couldn't even begin to comprehend his situation.

Why were there two Head Boys? Why was he one of them? And had it been just him or had Dumbledore said that his and Malfoy's _room_ wasn't ready yet? What on earth did that mean? His thoughts traveled to Hermione who had likely already made her way to the common room. She was probably devastated and maybe even crying. Harry felt horrible for her and himself.

It was just his luck that he would get stuck in a room with Malfoy his last year at school. Who had ever heard of the Heads sharing a room anyway? Harry never remembered anyone sharing rooms.

As he continued to make his way up to Gryffindor Tower he couldn't help but think that his year might not be as good as he had hoped.

* * *

Feedback is highly appriciated! (:


	2. Confronting Dumbledore

Check chapter one for disclaimer and other information

**

* * *

****Chapter Two: Confronting Dumbledore**

Harry made the rest of his way up to the Gryffindor common room completely lost in thought. He didn't even realize it when he was standing in front of the Fat Lady.

"Ahem," she said loudly. Harry jerked his head up.

"Oh," he said distractedly, "aconite." She swung open to reveal the common room, devoid of the usual noisy students. The fire was brightly lit and by the orange glow, Harry could see the tip of an orange head in a high backed armchair. Ron looked at him, dazed.

"Hey," he said, edges of his lips dipping in a small frown.

"Hey," Harry returned. He looked about the room but there were only a few people around, preparing to go to their dorms. There was no Hermione in sight.

"Where's-" he began.

Ron cut him off. "She already went up to bed, said she was tired." Harry's stomach sunk. Hermione was upset then. Especially since she hadn't waited up to speak to him, or even ask what he thought about the whole thing.

"Was she angry or disappointed or anything?" Harry asked quietly. He was a little afraid of the answer. He walked over to the chair next to Ron and took a seat.

"She was a little upset I guess," Ron said shrugging, an uncertain look on his face. "She said to tell you goodnight, and that she just wanted to think about some stuff."

Harry put his head in his hands. "Ugh, I hope she isn't angry and doesn't act all weird tomorrow. You know how she gets when she's irritated with one of us. She won't tell us what's wrong or why she's annoyed, and she doesn't talk. If she does it's only because she has to."

"She's not irritated with you, Harry," Ron said. "She's just disappointed that she wasn't picked. I think she was far too surprised that you _and_ Malfoy were chosen to be angry, and speaking of being surprised, I am too. Why the hell _was_ he picked?"

"Don't ask me. I have absolutely no idea," Harry said with a touch of bitterness in his voice. "I think it's bullshit though, who's ever heard of two Head Boys-" and then Harry paused and looked at Ron darkly, remembering possibly the most horrible detail of all, "you won't believe it, but I think Dumbledore said that we have to share a room, me and Malfoy I mean."

Ron's jaw dropped. "WHAT?" he shouted with a look of horror. "You and Malfoy?"

Harry nodded grimly.

"No one's ever had to share a room before!" Ron blurted.

"So Percy didn't have to share a room with anyone?"Harry asked.

Ron looked as if he were trying to remember something. "Erm well, I kind of stopped listening to him gloat about things after his 6th year so... I'm not really sure, but Merlin, Harry! A room with Malfoy? Ugh."

Harry shook his head but was glad to see that Ron was just as upset about it as he was. "I don't think it's possible for me to share a room with Malfoy, I'm going to go mad." Harry leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, the full force of what this all meant inciting a throbbing headache.

"I have to go and talk to Dumbledore with Malfoy tomorrow. He said he'd explain everything then."

Ron was at a loss for words. He just sat and stared at Harry, a regretful look painting his face. "Well," he said finally, "no offense, but I'm glad it's not me. You're in for it, mate."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said sarcastically, and the two friends stared quietly into the fire for another few minutes, Ron honoring Harry's silence, Harry dwelling on his fate. Finally, Harry rose to his feet. "I'm off to bed, coming?" he said sadly, rising from the chair.

Ron nodded and got to his feet as well. He patted Harry's back in sympathy.

The two boys walked up the boys' staircase and to the room that read 'Seventh Years' on the door. Harry opened it and stepped inside. He was greeted with the quiet snores of Neville, Seamus, and Dean, who were snoozing comfortably without the thoughts of Malfoy to haunt their slumber. He looked around with a bittersweet feeling coiled in the pit of his stomach.

He crept to his bed and got into his pajamas, trying to be as quiet as he could. When he climbed atop his mattress he let the warmth envelop him. He seethed that this would be his last damn night in his beloved room.

He would soon be sharing one with Draco fucking Malfoy. He hoped to Merlin that he'd heard wrong.

"Night, Harry," Ron said in the bed next to his.

"Night, Ron," Harry replied sadly. He sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could do about the circumstances. He let sleep take him and Malfoy was put out of his mind- for the moment.

* * *

The next morning Harry awoke to his blaring alarm clock with a terrible headache. He groaned and sat up rubbing his temples.

7:00 in the fucking morning, great. He got to his feet and stumbled over to Ron's bedside.

"Get up, Ron," he grumbled, shaking Ron too hard in his frustration. Ron mumbled something about being hungry, but aside from that he continued to just lie there.

"Ron, get up!" Harry said loudly, shaking his friend again. Ron rolled and fell out of bed, landing in an ungraceful lump. He sat up quickly and glared angrily at Harry, but Harry paid no attention to his friend as he made his way to the bathroom.

He took a long hot shower, readying himself for the day ahead. After he'd grabbed his uniform, and then shuffled his hair hastily with his hands (he couldn't remember the last time he had used a comb), he pulled his robes on and grabbed his books from his trunk.

Ron was slowly getting ready and Harry waited impatiently, watching him pull on one of his socks.

"Hurry up, Ron, at this rate we won't get breakfast!" he said, his hand resting on the doorknob.

"Oh hold on, Harry!" Ron said as he pulled on his other sock and stuffed his feet in his shoes before following Harry out the door.

The two made their way down to the Great Hall where Hermione was waiting for them, looking sleepy.

"Morning," Ron said as he plopped down next to her. He immediately began filling his plate high with food.  
Harry grabbed a muffin.

"Good morning, Ron, Harry," she said. Harry was relieved to find that there was no resentment in her voice.

"You look a bit tired," he said cautiously.

"I am a bit tired," she said while she took a bite of egg. "I was up pretty late last night."

"No you weren't. I waited for Harry by myself," Ron said with his mouth full of breakfast.

Hermione frowned at him. "Please, Ron, I can see what you have in your mouth," she said disgustedly. "I know I wasn't up with _you_, I was up thinking."

Ron swallowed his mouthful. "About?" he asked

"About Harry," she turned to him. "Have you ever heard of there being two Head Boys? I certainly haven't. I haven't checked the list of former Heads yet, but I _am_ sure there have been a Head Boy and a Head _Girl_ for at least the past 20 years. I mean honestly, isn't the point of the Head students being different sexes to make sure that there's equality amongst the student body?"

"I don't know," Harry said dejectedly, nibbling his muffin. "All I know is that I'm stuck with Malfoy for the entire year. Last night Dumbledore told us we have to share a room."

Hermione didn't look surprised. "I know," she said simply.

"And how is it that you know?" Ron asked with raised eyebrows.

"The Heads have always shared rooms. Honestly, Ron, you've had two Head Boys in the family, one of which was Head Boy while you were here, I'm beginning to think you're hopeless."

Ron looked sheepish and angry at the same time if that were possible. "So you knew," he said, glaring at his friend, "that if you were chosen, you would've had to share a room with a guy?"

"Yes," Hermione said, but her cheeks were pink.

"And whom may I ask did you hope Head Boy would be?" Ron continued icily, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"I didn't hope it would _be_ anybody. I just wanted the honor of being Head Girl, and, Harry, I'm not angry with you. I can tell you think I am by your face and the way you're talking to me. I have to admit I was a little disappointed, but I'm really already over it." Harry smiled, a feeling of relief washing over him.

"Anyway, like I was saying before Ron interrupted, I've never heard of it, but I don't want to rule it out completely, well obviously I _can't_ rule it out completely, Dumbledore _has_ chosen two Head Boys, but it isn't typical, even if its ever been done before."

"Well, I'll find out after classes today," Harry said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I'm going to talk with Dumbledore after them."

"Oh, good then-" but Hermione stopped in mid-sentence, interrupted as the doors were flung open and Draco Malfoy strutted in, followed by Zabini and the rest of his gang. He looked to be in a very foul mood and for a moment he glowered at Harry before taking a seat at his table.

"That's what I'm gonna have to deal with," Harry said angrily. He shook his head and then looked up at his silver-headed mentor. Harry got the feeling that there was definitely something up.

* * *

Classes seemed to take an achingly long time that morning. Harry was very anxious to talk to Dumbledore, and he had absolutely no patience.

Even lunch was horrible. Harry didn't feel like eating because of his mood, and then he had to endure constant questioning from Hermione. She wouldn't stop talking about the possibilities facing Harry, and when Ron badgered her about it, they began to bicker.

Harry had actually put his hands against his ears and _finally_ Ron and Hermione had fallen silent.

The closest he came to having fun was Care of Magical Creatures. He had a long discussion with Hagrid who let him do all the talking while he stood and listened. In a quiet voice, Harry had told him what Dumbledore had said to him and Malfoy. Malfoy kept throwing him dirty looks as if it was Harry's fault that he was Head Boy. Hagrid had chuckled and said, "Dumbledore has his reasons, Harry. He wouldn'a put yeh with the git if he didn' think yeh could handle it." Harry had reluctantly agreed while he threw Malfoy an equally scathing look.

As of now, Harry was making his way down to the dungeons.

Potions would thankfully be his final class of the day. He got there a little early in his impatience and leaned against the cool stone wall outside Snape's classroom door. Ron and Hermione had gone back up to Gryffindor Tower because Ron had left his book. To Harry's immense displeasure, footsteps began to echo down the corridor, long footsteps with lengthy spaces in-between them, footsteps that sounded as if they belonged to a smirking blond someone.

Draco Malfoy loomed from the darkness. He was entirely alone. His eyes widened a little when they landed on Harry and then he spat, "What are you doing here."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Probably the same thing you are, arsehole," he said irately. "This is my class too."

Malfoy mirrored Harry's expression.

"I will not share a room with you," he said suddenly, bringing up the Head Boy subject. "If you do anything to mess up my chances of getting out of this fucking mess this afternoon, then I'll shove my wand up your arse faster then you can say fuck."

At this Harry turned to face Malfoy completely. "What the fuck makes you think that _I_ want to share a room with _you_. I'm looking forward to this about as much as you are! Possibly even less!" he said loudly.

Malfoy looked angry, like he wanted to jump at Harry but was still undecided. Harry's hand automatically strayed to his wand. "This is going to be complete and utter hell," Malfoy said to himself more than to Harry. "I can't take a whole year with _you_ and your _friends_."

"My God, Malfoy, don't make this entire thing about you!" Harry said just as loudly as he had before. "I don't want to spend the year with _you_ and _your_ oafs!"

Malfoy definitely looked angry now. "I _will_ get out of this Potter," he said in a deadly whisper.

Harry snorted. "Why do you keep saying that as if it's a threat?" he asked with another derisive laugh.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes even further. "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," he said, taking a step toward Harry.

Harry raised a cautious eyebrow but didn't back down. "Oh, and why is that?" Harry asked in a guarded voice that reflected his movements.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Potter," Malfoy growled out. "You think you're a fucking hero, but you're nothing but an idiot half-blood, no different from any of the rest of the scum in this school."

Harry eyes flashed. "I'm very different from the scum in this school," he said. "Please don't _ever_ compare me to you again."

Malfoy took another step toward Harry. "Don't make me laugh, as if I'd ever compare myself to the likes of you."

Harry still firmly stood his ground. "Oh that's right, you're on a different level then everyone else, yeah? You just say the word and your wonderful, lovely, pure-blood daddy will come running up to the school to fix whatever problems his little Draco has- oh but wait, he can't because he's stuck in Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eater scum that tried to kill me and my friends." Harry immediately knew that he had pushed the right button because Malfoy's eyes suddenly flashed a brighter shade of grey and he lunged forward.

Harry was taken off guard despite being alert a moment earlier; he had expected Malfoy to use his wand, but as he was now pressed against the wall with surprising force, that didn't really matter.

Malfoy's face was mere inches away from Harry's and he was breathing heavily, furiously. "Don't ever say anything about my father again, Potter," Malfoy whispered, "_ever_." Harry couldn't breathe to retort, and the shock of being pushed against the wall had made him immobile. He simply stood there, eyes wide. Suddenly Malfoy whipped his head around to stare down the corridor. There were fast approaching footsteps coming from that direction.

Malfoy backed off of Harry quickly, and stood on the opposite side of the hallway. He still looked angry but then flashed Harry a malevolent smile as the crowd of students suddenly filled up the space between them. Harry was shaking with fury, his face red and his hands balled into fists. Arguing voices soon met his ears and Hermione and Ron were at his side.

"Well it's not my fault that you decided to run up and get a few extra books, Hermione!" Ron was saying heatedly. "You're so… Harry? What is it?"

Hermione clutched Harry's arm, feeling him shaking. She gasped, and then just as Harry lunged she yelled, "RON, GRAB HIM!"

Ron leapt at Harry and took hold of his robes. Harry's arms were flailing madly in the air. People immediately moved out of his striking range. Malfoy continued to stand there in the same spot, only now with Zabini by his side. He was smirking.

"HARRY," Ron panted, struggling to hold Harry back, "WHAT THE FU-"

"POTTER!" yelled a very angry, deep voice. Ron leaped back a foot, letting go of Harry in the process. At Ron's release of his robes, Harry rocketed towards Malfoy, but then found himself choked from behind as his hood was grabbed by Snape. The Potions master advanced upon him, his greasy hair almost touching Harry's face.

"_What_ are you doing, Potter?" he asked in a whisper. Harry caught every word. The students silently watched with rapt attention.

"It was Malfoy," Harry said, throwing Malfoy a look of disgust. He was standing against the wall still, staring at Snape's back with an innocent look upon his brainless face.

Snape turned towards Malfoy. "What's going on, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked in a calmer tone than the one he had used with Harry.

Malfoy shrugged, keeping the childlike look plastered on his face. "I don't know, Professor, I was just standing here, and then Potter decided to lunge at me for no apparent reason." Harry's nostrils flared in anger.

Snape turned to Zabini, who said, "It's true, Professor, I saw the whole thing." A smile was hidden in his black eyes.

"You did not; you weren't even here!" Harry shouted at the dark haired boy.

"SHUT UP, POTTER!" Snape yelled. "Were you a witness, Blaise?"

"Of course I was, Professor, why would I lie about something like that?"

Harry attempted to open his mouth again, but before he could get a single word out, Snape said, "20 points from Gryffindor." He didn't even bother to ask Ron or Hermione if they had seen anything, and even though they hadn't, it was still extremely unfair.

"Into the class everyone!" Snape said to his students.

The Gryffindors groaned and the Slytherins gave smirks, and they all began to move into the classroom.

"No more from you, Potter." Snape snapped at Harry, finally letting go of his hood.

Harry pulled away from Snape in an overly dramatic gesture and stomped into the room. He sat down next to Ron and practically threw his books and tools from his bag. Hermione flinched next to him.

"Harry, we know that you didn't start it," she said patting his hand. "We know that Malfoy's a stupid git who'll get away with anything in Potions."

Harry just sat stiff in his seat, facing determinedly towards the blackboard.

Potions class was the worst time of the entire day. Snape was horrible to Harry and he asked him all the questions he knew that Harry wouldn't know. He took off as many points as he could, and he referred to Harry as "The New Heroic Head Boy". Harry jumped up eagerly when the bell finally rang.

He moved with Ron and Hermione towards the door and was pushed roughly by Malfoy and Blaise who both smirked at him as they passed. Harry closed his eyes, very nearly moving to finish the earlier fight, but he chose not to rage again. The three returned to the common room, where Harry dropped off his books before heading up to Dumbledore's office.

"Good luck, mate," Ron offered as Harry climbed up into the portrait hole.

"Yeah, Harry, and tell us everything when you get back," Hermione said fervently.

"I will," said Harry, and he climbed out of sight.

He took his time walking to Dumbledore's office. He was a bit nervous about what other horrors lie waiting for him and he also wasn't excited about seeing Malfoy again.

He finally arrived and gave the password to the waiting gargoyle, the winding staircase behind it carried him up to the brilliant room, and he entered into it, expecting to see Dumbledore smiling at him from behind his half-moon glasses. Instead he was met with an empty room, except for one person.

Malfoy was already there, his arm draped carelessly over the chair he was lounging in. Dumbledore was not anywhere in sight.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Malfoy delivered Harry his trademark sneer. "I'm not his personal servant, Potter; I don't know where the fucking old man is. Count on him to tell us to be here at a set time and then not show up himself."

Harry could already tell that his meeting with Dumbledore and Malfoy was not going to be a very happy one.

"Well, come and have a seat, Potter," Malfoy said in an annoyingly mock-cheerful voice, patting the chair next to him. Harry unwillingly walked over and sat in the remaining chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"So," the blond said, eyeing Harry with distaste. "I expect you'll want to remain the Head Boy?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked in a harsh tone.

Malfoy sent him a patented Malfoy scowl. "I'm talking about you wanting to be Head Boy no matter what Dumbledore says. You'll want to be all noble and show the old man that you 'respect his decisions', but let me tell you right now, like I said earlier- if you do anything that messes this up for me…" he trailed off for effect.

"If that's your attempt at being scary you need some work," Harry started angrily. "First of all I don't know where you get off thinking that I want to be Head Boy with you, because believe me, I don't. If Dumbledore says that you get to be Head Boy, and I get to leave, I'll be more than happy with that. Just shut up and leave me the hell alon-" At that moment the door into the office opened up and Dumbledore stood in the doorway, holding some papers in his hands.

He took a few long strides over to his desk and placed the papers on top of it before smiling cheerfully at his two students, and taking a seat in his huge armchair. He placed his long fingers together and said, "To business, each of you please take a pile of the papers." He handed each of them a stack.

"These are the rules and regulations that we must review, standard Head material. If you will both look at the first paragraph-"

"Ahem," Malfoy interrupted.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore looked at him with wise eyes.

"If I may?" Malfoy asked in a polite voice that clearly showed that he wished to remain on Dumbledore's good side. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked.

"Before we discuss rules and regulations, I think you should know that I do not plan on being Head Boy for long. Actually I was hoping that I might be able to be dismissed from the position right now, during this very meeting," Malfoy said simply.

Dumbledore smiled at the blond. "Really? Why on earth do you want that? Are you leaving the school?"

"No I'm not leaving the school; I simply don't want to be Head Boy. Surely you'd rather have a willing participant?"

"May I ask why you're not willing?"

Malfoy gave a very strained smile and seemed to be trying to think of his next answer. "If you must know, I'm not to keen on sharing a room with Potter here."

Dumbledore's smile faltered just a bit, but he looked like he'd been expecting this. "But Harry is a lovely young man, and as long as you're not leaving the school, then you will indeed be the Head Boy, and you will indeed be sharing a room with Mr. Potter."

Harry's face fell and he groaned on the inside. They _would_ be sharing a room then.

Malfoy seemed confused that he wasn't getting what he wanted. "Well I don't think that any of this is a very good idea," he said, "and I can't imagine why you would choose me over dozens of other students who probably want the job."

"There are students who probably want the job more, I agree, but I believe you and Harry will do just fine." Dumbledore was ignoring Malfoy really; he was just being polite about it.

Malfoy seemed to have lost some of his own courtesy. "Professor, I don't know who decided to put Potter and I in the same position, knowing that we would have to share a room, but I think you should question their mindset."

Harry nodded his head, surprised that he and Malfoy were agreeing on anything. "Professor, Malfoy's right-"

Dumbledore interrupted him. "Enough of that," he said calmly. "I think that six years of schooling together is far more than enough time for you boys to be on a first name basis."

Harry grimaced and began his sentence over again. "Professor, _Draco's_ right, it really isn't the greatest thing to put us in a room together. We don't… get along very well."

Dumbledore gave Harry a stern look. "Honestly, boys, don't you both think you're a bit too old for this? I expected that you might not be thrilled about having to share a room, but to want to give up your post only because of a childhood grudge, isn't that a bit absurd?"

Harry could think of nothing to say, but Malfoy was not to be beaten. "It's not just a childhood grudge!" he cried out suddenly. He seemed to realize his tone because he continued more calmly. "If we're in an enclosed space for an extended period of time then one of us might emerge decapitated. Pott- _Harry_ and I do not get along, we will never get along. It's purely impossible. Against the nature of the universe and all that rot. How did we get picked anyway? Who suggested, 'Oh, lets put Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the same room together and see what happens'? Honestly, it's preposterous."

Dumbledore would have none of it. "This topic is quite preposterous," he said in a light, airy tone. "And it wasn't a person that chose the two of you to be Head Boy; you were chosen in the traditional way."

"The traditional way?" asked Harry. "What does that mean?"

"The emblem above my door." Dumbledore pointed at a Hogwarts emblem that rested over the entrance. It had a small slot in the front of it.

"How does that determine the Heads?" asked Malfoy, obviously annoyed at being interrupted. "And why are we both Head _Boys_? Shouldn't there be a Head Girl?"

"Well, no. There aren't any rules that say that there can't be two Heads of the same gender. There have been a Head Boy and Girl for the past 50 years, but we've been known to have two girls and two boys. Most Headmasters and Headmistresses decide to choose the Head students themselves, and they usually chose a boy and girl to even things out. I use the emblem to determine the Head students. It hadn't been used in years before my time, but it was developed by the founders and so I decided that it was time for it to come back into service. The choice of the Head depends on which students in the year are best for the job. When the slip of parchment was placed in the emblem this year, after quite a while of waiting mind you, the Gryffindor and Slytherin symbols flashed and your names appeared. Simple as that really."

Malfoy was still set on finding a loophole to get him out of being Head Boy. "Well, why do we have to share a room? I didn't know that Heads shared rooms."

"Oh yes, the Heads have always shared rooms." Harry suddenly remembered that Hermione hadn't gone into much explanation when she'd told him about the whole sharing rooms ordeal.

"Professor, when Percy Weasley was Head Boy he was always there when something happened in the common room. If he had a different room how did he always appear?"

"There are doors to all the house common rooms in the Head common room. They are available in case there are ever any problems."

Harry nodded glumly and Draco sulked. Dumbledore seemed to take their silence as a sign to continue.

"Now, are there anymore questions, or can we get to the rules?"

Draco rolled his eyes a little and gave the tiniest nod. Harry frowned but nodded as well.

Dumbledore went into explanation of the rules they would have to follow, and the responsibilities they would carry, which consisted of being able to take off house points, being able to give little magical tickets which would cause the student to have to go to their Heads of Houses, and being able to use the little secret passages around the school, specifically designed for their use. Harry of course already knew about the passages, having used the Marauder's Map for six years.

Once Dumbledore was finally finished talking, he stood up and walked over to his door. "I can show you both to your room now; your things have already been moved there." He opened the door and stood back to let Harry and Draco step out before him.

Harry went to step forward, but Draco pushed him aside.

"I'll still find a way to get out of this," he whispered furiously to Harry as he passed.

* * *

Feedback would be wonderful :D 


	3. The Dreaded Move

**Chapter Three: The Dreaded Move**

Harry moved down the stairs wordlessly and entered the hallway, trying to keep a cool head, letting Dumbledore lead the way. The Headmaster wandered through a series of complicated passages, most of which Harry had never been through before.

The boys followed Dumbledore up two flights of stairs, through three tapestries, waited as he gave a password to a painting of a Gringotts goblin, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, they came to a large oak door with a great H embedded into it.

Dumbledore took two golden, old fashioned-looking keys from the inside of his robes. He handed one to each of them and stood back expectantly, waiting. Harry stepped forward after seeing Malfoy give the key a dirty look.

What met his eyes when the door swung open made Harry gasp. A huge room swam into view.

There were two long magnificent staircases on either side of a huge fireplace. Two couches- one green with silver trim and one red with gold- stood in the center of the room facing each other. There were four doors that lined the left wall, each with a house symbol on the front of it. Harry supposed that these were the magical doors Dumbledore had spoken about earlier.

A small table stood by an enormous window with a pitcher of pumpkin juice on top of it, accompanied by two empty glasses. There were also twin desks located in a corner of the room, their only difference being that one was painted with Slytherin colors and the other with Gryffindor's. The final thing Harry noticed, before Dumbledore spoke up, was another door located near the corner opposite the desks.

"This is your room, boys, though I hardly think I needed to explain that," Dumbledore said, opening his arms. Harry couldn't help but be overwhelmed.

Neither boy said anything, but Malfoy made a quiet, disgruntled sound and crossed his arms.

"I've seen better," he said snobbishly out of the corner of his mouth so that only Harry could hear, though his eyes gave away the fact that he was impressed. Dumbledore simply smiled and proceeded to give Harry and Malfoy a tour of their new quarters.

"These are the house doors which lead you into the common rooms," the Headmaster said, gesturing towards the doors. He then walked over to the fireplace. "These staircases lead up to your bedrooms, which you can explore later, I am sure."

Malfoy looked around sulkily. "Professor, I just want to be absolutely sure that-" he began.

"Yes, Draco, you are Head Boy no matter what," Dumbledore said with his characteristic calmness. Malfoy's face fell just a tad and he said nothing more.

"Obviously, there are two of everything and the items that belong to you are in your own house colors," Dumbledore continued. "That table over by the window is a newly added luxury for Heads only. Instead of water you get a pitcher of pumpkin juice. It certainly does taste better- oh and it refills itself." Despite Harry's feelings about rooming with Malfoy, he couldn't suppress a tiny grin at the old man's enthusiasm.

He found himself wondering how much he and Malfoy would honestly need to see each other, not too much he supposed, since he now knew that they had separate sleeping accommodations. Harry had thought that they would be sleeping in the same room, but this new knowledge made him feel much better.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, seeming to remember something. "This last door leads into your bathroom." He took a few long strides before coming to the door in the corner and beckoned the boys to him. Harry joined him and Dumbledore patiently waited as Malfoy came with his long, exaggerated steps. Once they were both at his side, Dumbledore grinned and told them in a rather proud voice, "I happen to be very pleased with the outcome of this room; it's the best bathroom, or one of the best, in the school. I believe it even rivals mine." He chuckled and opened the door with the air of someone cutting a big red ribbon at a public store opening.

The tiles on the floor glittered, sparkling clean. They were red and green, reminding Harry of Christmas. There were two enormous sinks that lined the right side of the room, their silver taps shined. The room was brightly lit with over 100 candles placed cleverly about for optimum lighting. A golden, _golden_, toilet stood a few feet away from a huge bathtub, that reminded Harry of the prefects' tub he had used in his fourth year. The bathtub stood on the right side, just begging to be used. Harry looked around and walked to the very back of the room where there was a long vertical gap in the tiled wall, reaching from floor to several feet above Harry's head. Harry poked his head through it to see five silver showerheads. Harry turned back to Dumbledore who said, "What do you think, boys?"

Harry smiled tightly at him, trying not to seem reluctant. "I've never seen a bathroom like this," he said truthfully.

"Yes well, it did take quite some time to complete. I like it very much, and I hope you don't mind, but I look a dip in the bath when it was first finished. I simply couldn't resist," Dumbledore said, sounding quite amused with himself. Harry gave a little laugh.

"What do you think, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked turning to face Malfoy. Harry turned as well. Malfoy was standing at the door. He hadn't moved or spoken since laying eyes on the opulent bathroom.

"We have to _share_ a bathroom?" he asked incredulously.

Dumbledore's eyebrows came together and he looked at Malfoy as if confused. "Is that a problem, Draco?"

"Well…" Malfoy started pointedly. "I don't particularly _want_ to share a bathroom with Potter," he cleared his throat, "honestly, to be as polite about it as possible, I would rather ahem…eat a maggot then share a bathroom with him."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to narrow just the tiniest bit. "Mr. Malfoy, seeing as you're both boys it doesn't _really_ matter does it?" he said calmly.

"Well, if Harry were a girl would it then be alright for us to have communal showers?" asked Malfoy, still appearing courteous, but Harry could hear the spite and malice stewing quite near the surface.

"Well naturally, if you or Harry were female it would be necessary for separate bathrooms, but because you're both male we used one bathroom to give you more desk space," Dumbledore said, as if that solution were the most obvious in the world. Malfoy's nose flared and his eyes flashed dangerously. For a moment he looked as if he were going to give up on his false courtesy but then he put on a simpering smile and continued on with his debate.

"I certainly don't mean to be rude, but I would much rather have a separate bathroom than extra desk space," he said respectfully. Harry wanted to vomit.

"Everything is already set up, Mr. Malfoy; there really is nothing I can do about it. I'm sure you and Harry will get along just fine and even more so with time. You have all year after all."

Draco couldn't hold back the look of disgust that flitted across his face. Harry had to admit that he quite agreed with Malfoy. It would be the day that Harry professed his undying love for the giant squid when he learned to get along with Ferret Face.

Dumbledore smiled and then placed a hand on Harry and Malfoy's backs and led them out into the main room. He turned to them both and reached his hand into his pocket.

"Here are two extra keys for you both. They're for one of your friends to keep, so that they can come and visit you whenever they like. All of your keys work with the doors in each of the common rooms. I want to make sure that you both take care in who you pick to give the keys to, because if given to an untrustworthy person… well I'm sure you could fathom that outcome." Dumbledore then smiled and held out his arms once more.

"I suppose that is all I need to address," he said cheerily. "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted on a more personal level." Dumbledore then turned to leave but Malfoy made a quick jerky movement toward him.

"Wait!" he called out quickly. "I just- is this really the _only way_, Professor?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I assume you're speaking about your being Head Boy?"

"Um, well, yes," Malfoy stated bluntly.

"This is indeed the only way, Draco," Dumbledore said with finality in his voice.

Malfoy's face turned unmistakably angry. "I'm afraid to say that I'm going to have to write my fathe-" he began, but when Harry and Dumbledore stared at him with raised eyebrows, his face turned pink and he finished, "mother about this." And with that he stormed across the room and out the door.

Dumbledore shook his head with disappointment in Malfoy's direction. He then turned heavily to face Harry, who was glowering after Malfoy.

"I know that you do not want to be in this situation, Harry," he said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "But I ask that you work with what you're given to show the responsibility that I know you possess." Harry sighed. "It may not seem like it, but there is a reason that you were chosen to be Head Boy, and the same goes for Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore paused and pulled out his silver pocket watch. "Well, I suppose I should be going- very important meeting with Nymphandora Tonks and Remus Lupin this afternoon. Harry, if you have any more questions concerning anything, come and see me. I believe you have the place to yourself for now… I do expect Mr. Malfoy will be joining you later, once I've had a word with Narcissa… Good day to you, Harry- oh and tell Ms. Granger that I would've chosen her in a heartbeat. She'll want to have known." Dumbledore turned and exited the room, muttering to himself about a horny toad.

As the door clicked shut, Harry reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He made his way over to the large red and gold sofa and flopped down upon it. The couch felt soft and warm but he would've given it up in a second for the cozy feel of his old common room and the nice feeling of simply sleeping in the same bedroom as his friends. He rubbed a little harder at his nose.

He was Head Boy. He guessed that in a few days time the _Prophet_ would run a story on 'Heroic Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and now Hogwarts' Head Boy'. He sighed heavily, knowing that he would never be able to fully avoid the public eye. He should've been used to his fame by now, and to an extent he was, but it still bothered him. He supposed Malfoy would really let him have it.

After sitting on the couch and sulking for a private moment, Harry decided to go up and take a look at his new room. He walked over to the staircase on the right and began to make his way up. At the top was a large oak door much like the one that opened into the Head room itself. Harry stepped forward and pushed the door open.

There was enough red and gold in the room to please any Gryffindor. A canopy bed, that looked as if it could fit four people comfortably, stood on Harry's right. Its comforter and pillows all had the image of a lion stitched onto them. There were two dressers, one long one with only drawers, and one wide one with a huge mirror. There was also a full-length mirror located next to an extremely big walk in closet.

"Here we go, Hedwig," Harry said, walking over to the owl who was perched in her cage on the other side of the room. "This is going to be one hell of a year, huh?"

Hedwig hooted in a dignified way, and Harry laughed softly at her, stroking her feathers. He looked dismally around at the room. This was too much, too much of everything. He didn't need any of this. Harry was a simple person with simple needs. Sure everything was nice, but he didn't _want_ it. Luxury didn't sit well with Harry; it wasn't something he was used to or something he had really ever desired. He needed food, water, somewhere to sleep, and his friends, the latter being the most important. That's all it took to make him happy.

He gave one last weighty sigh and turned back to Hedwig. "I suppose I'll go and get Ron and Hermione," he said, stroking her again. "They'll want to hear all about everything, I suppose." He turned and made his way out of the room.

When he came to the bottom of the staircase, he walked over to the door with the big Gryffindor lion carved into it. He put in his key and turned. The door swung open and, crossing the threshold, Harry realized he was at the very top of the boy's dormitories. He had never bothered to climb all the way to the top of the spiral staircase, because he had just supposed that it held someone else's dormitory. Harry should've known it was there because he owned the Marauder's Map, but he'd never had any real reason to examine his own corner of the castle nor closely examine any of the other house dormitories.

He climbed down the staircase and emerged into the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione were seated at one of the round tables. They seemed to be arguing about homework, but upon setting eyes on Harry, Hermione jumped up and rushed over to her best friend. Ron followed closely behind.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly. "What did Dumbledore say? Did he explain why there are two Head Boys? Did he give you the Head rules? Did he tell you why-"

"Merlin, woman, let the man talk!" Ron said, looking at Hermione sternly.

Hermione glared at Ron, but did shut her mouth, allowing Harry to speak. He smiled resignedly at the both of them. The three friends returned to the table where Ron and Hermione had just been.

Harry went into a long explanation about what Dumbledore had told him and what had happened in the room with Malfoy, being interrupted every so often by Hermione who would say, "Ah yes, I thought so", and by Ron who would exclaim, "That fucker!"

Hermione shook her head at Ron. "Ronald Weasley! Would you say that in front of your mother?" she said hotly.

Ron turned to her and in a smart-aleck tone said, "No I wouldn't, but do you see Molly Weasley around anywhere?" He looked around the room exaggeratedly. "I don't. So anyway, he just walked out of the room? Just like that?"

Harry nodded. "He more stomped out if you ask me."

"And he almost said he would write his father?"

"Yeah, but then he corrected himself and said mother."

"Priceless, I wish I'd been there," Ron finished in a satisfied way. "I bet that made him really angry- you're so lucky, Harry."

"Says who?" Harry asked dejectedly. "Believe me, Ron, I'd much rather be in your shoes right now. Yeah it did make him angry, but that means I'm going to have to deal with him being an arse later, assuming Dumbledore gets his way."

"I think it's likely that Dumbledore will get his way, Harry. I can't believe that Malfoy would speak like that to the Headmaster," Hermione said sounding anxious.

"Well I can, the stupid git. He really does think he's something doesn't he?" Ron said, leaning back in his chair. Harry nodded.

"I have a feeling it isn't going to be easy to keep my hands to myself this year," Harry said angrily.

"Well who cares? Sock him one and I'll help," Ron said eagerly, sitting back up again.

"Dumbledore kind of put some pressure on me. He wants me to 'show the responsibility that he knows I possess'. I can't fight with Malfoy now that he's said that, although I'm not sure how long that could sustain me if Ferret made me angry enough," Harry said sounding exasperated.

"It's all for the best really," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Heads are supposed to set an example, not fight and rip each other's faces off." Ron gave her a disgruntled look.

"I suppose that's why Dumbledore said he would've chosen you had the choice been up to him," Harry said, grinning.

Hermione spluttered. "He said that?" she asked with a badly suppressed beaming smile. Harry nodded. Ron shook his head but smiled too.

"Well let's see your room, mate," he said getting to his feet, "before Hermione wets herself." Harry laughed as Hermione swatted Ron on the arm and the three of them set off up the boys' staircase.

Harry showed Ron and Hermione around his room. Ron stared at everything enviously, especially when Harry showed him his bedroom.

"Look at all the space you have!" he said opening Harry's closet door. "This is amazing! Why don't you ask Dumbledore if a friend could move in with you?"

Harry chuckled and secretly wished Ron _could_ move in with him, simply so that he wouldn't have to be alone, but then he pushed that out of his mind because he wasn't five. He absentmindedly watched Hermione fix her hair in his huge mirror. She immediately stopped when she noticed him watching her.

"What does that door lead into?" she asked indicating a door hidden in a corner by the right side of Harry's bed.

"I don't know," Harry said with a shrug. "I didn't notice it before."

He walked over to it and pulled it open. It was a door into Malfoy's room. The room was the exact mirror image of Harry's only decked out in green, silver, and snakes.

"Why is there a door leading into Malfoy's room?" Ron said disgustedly.

"Probably for emergency situations," Hermione said, looking around at Draco's furnishings. "It would take too long for Harry and Malfoy to both run all the way down those long staircases."

"Is there a lock, Harry?" Ron asked in the same disgusted tone. Harry examined the doorknob and shook his head.

"Good luck with that then, mate," Ron said raising his eyebrows. "You might wake up one morning looking like a troll." Harry sighed and returned to his own room. Ron and Hermione followed shutting the door behind them.

They all climbed on Harry's bed and sat down.

"This is really nice, Harry," Hermione said.

"Yeah, the only downside is that you have a connected room with Malfoy's and you have to see him naked," Ron said fairly.

"I don't necessarily have to see him naked, Ron," Harry said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I don't have to take a shower at the exact same time as him."

"Well I'm just saying…" Ron said, amused.

Harry flopped down on his back, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, here Hermione, before I forget," Harry said, reaching into his pocket. "Spare key Dumbledore gave me. He said I could give it to a friend to use, so here." He placed the key in Hermione's palm and she tucked it safely away.

"Where's mine?" Ron asked expectantly.

"He only gave me one," Harry said.

"So then why does Hermione get it?" Ron said, looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Because, Ron, you would lose it," said Hermione sounding quite pleased with herself. "Besides you can use it too, I'm just going to hold onto it."

"I would not lose it," said Ron, sounding a little angry.

"Yes you would," said Harry and Hermione together, and they both laughed at Ron's look of outrage.

* * *

Comments are love. 


	4. Strange First Night

**Chapter Four: Strange First Night**

Harry scanned over his potions essay, frustrated with the amount of homework Snape had assigned them, and showed it to Hermione.

"I still don't get this part," he said pointing to a paragraph in Hermione's own essay.

"Harry, what's not to get? All you have to do is add the powdered pig ears into the mix after you've added the tsetse fly wings, but before you've put in the doxy hair," she said for the fifth time.

"So the doxy hair comes before the ears- right?" asked Harry scratching his head.

"No the hair comes after," she said becoming frustrated with Harry.

Ron suddenly sat up and rubbed his eyes. (He had been dosing off.) He looked at his wristwatch, a present from his dad last birthday, and threw down his quill and parchment.

"I think we ought to go to dessert, after we've had dinner, but before we finish our homework," he said standing and stretching. "C'mon guys I'm starved."

Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "And you wonder why your marks aren't good?" she said, putting her things into her bag.

"My marks aren't _bad_," Ron said fairly. "I am a prefect, and you have to have good marks to be one. That's why Fred and George never became prefects." Hermione let out a snort.

"Oh please," she said, "Fred and George never became prefects because they blew up a bathroom at least once a month." Ron shrugged.

The trio had been in the Head's quarters all day. After lying on Harry's bed and talking for half an hour, Hermione had suggested they get to their homework. Harry and Ron had agreed reluctantly and they all had moved down onto Harry's couch.

It was now 7:00 and Malfoy still hadn't shown up. Lucky for them too, because things were going so smoothly- besides the occasional, and ever present, Hermione-Ron squabble.

Harry, now that he thought of it, was hungry too and his stomach gave a grumble. He also put his homework and quill back into his bag and then threw it onto his new desk.

"I'll help you with the rest of your work tomorrow, Harry," Hermione told him as she joined him and Ron as they moved toward the door.

Harry nodded and reached for the doorknob, but as his fingers closed around it, it turned and he was face to face with Malfoy.

Both boys were momentarily surprised but then Malfoy regained his composure and pushed Harry out of his way. Harry's gaze followed him, an urgent part of him wanting to go up behind Malfoy and kick him hard in the shins, but at the last second he decided against it. Instead he watched Malfoy until he was up his staircase and out of sight.

"Arsehole," Ron muttered under his breath, as they moved out into the corridor, making their way down to the Great Hall.

Dinner was a well-deserved break from the hustle and bustle of the day and Harry took his time eating the delicious food. He knew what would be waiting for him back in his room. Hopefully he would be able to get to bed without a hitch, but being that Malfoy was his roommate, he seriously doubted it.

"Do you think you'll last, Harry?" Ron asked him suddenly, coming off a conversation with Dean.  
"What are you talking about?" said Harry confusedly.

"Do you think you'll last?" Ron repeated. "You know, with Malfoy and all."

Harry looked at Ron disdainfully. Ron was his best mate but that didn't stop him from sometimes saying the most random, stupid, things in the world.

"Last in what way?" Harry asked looking over to the Slytherin table to see if Malfoy was there. He wasn't though and neither was Zabini. They were both most likely up in the room, which meant that Harry might have to deal with both Zabini and Malfoy. It wasn't a prospect Harry was looking forward to.

"Do you think you'll be able to pull off another one of those passive resistance things you pulled off when Malfoy pushed you? I know that if it'd been me, I would've pounced on him."

Harry shrugged. In truth, he also wondered what kind of willpower inside of him had kept him from doing what he so dearly wanted to do: crush Malfoy into a million tiny pieces and then feed them to Hedwig.

Hermione tutted from across the table. She was looking at Ron crossly and Harry could sense an infamous argument about to happen.

"Of course Harry has more self control then you do! Who pulls you away from Malfoy every five seconds? You start things all the time, Ron," she said putting a forkful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.

"Harry fought with him so much last year that I lost count, Hermione!" Ron said hotly in retaliation.

"That was because Malfoy was using the most horrible, personal, hurtful things as insults!"

"Oh and the things he said to me were about bunnies and marshmallows were they?"

Harry stood up and blew heavily out of his mouth. He had had enough, which usually didn't happen much.

"See you guys tomorrow," he said leaving the table, but Ron and Hermione didn't even acknowledge him as he strode off out the Hall.

Harry wished dearly that Ron would ask Hermione out like Harry knew he wanted to. Then perhaps he could enjoy some silence every once in awhile.

He walked down the complicated path up to his dorm alone, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It was times like these, when he was alone that he would begin to think about things that he tried to keep his mind away from. The wound that had been caused by Sirius's death had definitely healed considerably since fifth year, but it would never completely heal up, and then there was the prophecy that ensured Harry that he would have to become a murderer or be murdered himself. He tried not to think of these things, he really did, but he couldn't help it. They haunted his dreams and made him fear for his own life and the lives of those he loved.

The previous year Harry had tried to distance himself from his friends to try and keep them safe, but that had proved next to impossible. Both Ron and Hermione, and Ron's entire family for that matter, had claimed that they would be with Harry even if they had to chain themselves to him, and so Harry had given up and had gone to the next extreme: he stayed as close as possible to his friends, somehow feeling that if Voldemort were to swoop down on them he would be there to sacrifice himself.

By the time he had reached his room Harry was completely wrapped up in his own thoughts and not at all in the mood to be faced with Malfoy. He opened the door with a slight frown upon his face. When he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him he saw that Malfoy was sitting on the Slytherin couch with Zabini by his side. The two of them looked up as Harry entered.

"Oh _shit_," Harry said quietly under his breath.

"What was that Potter?" Malfoy asked, giving Zabini 'his' smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes and began to make his way across the room, wanting nothing more then to collapse into bed, however it seemed as though Malfoy had other things in mind.

He got up off the couch and sauntered over to block Harry's way up the stairs. He was obviously showing off in front of Zabini. Harry was already tense enough from his previous thoughts and even tenser when it came to Malfoy; clearly remembering being pushed up against the wall earlier that day and then pushed a few times throughout.

"Get out of my way," Harry said slowly and dangerously, assuring that Ferret caught every word.  
Malfoy simply smiled wider and said, "And if I don't?"

Harry was really getting pissed off. "Then I'll just throw you out of my way," he said in the same slow tone.  
Malfoy actually had the audacity to laugh in Harry's face, who practically fumed before him. So with no other options left to his anger riddled mind, Harry grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes and threw him out of his way just like he said he would. Malfoy landed in a heap on the floor and Zabini jumped to his feet.

Harry, feeling triumphant, made it up three steps before two pale hands grabbed him from behind and forcefully pulled him back down the stairs.

Okay, Harry thought to himself as he regained his composure, _If that's how he wants it then I'm happy to oblige_, and then quite suddenly Harry and Malfoy were a tangled mass of limbs flailing about on the ground.

Zabini rushed over and stood a few feet away from the fight, apparently not knowing whether to join in with his friend or keep his distance in order to spare himself a black eye.

It was so satisfying to relieve stress in the form of a few well aimed punches, so very, very satisfying.  
Harry had Malfoy around the neck and was trying to get him in a headlock. Malfoy was kneeing Harry in the stomach, attempting to throw him off and cause as much pain as he could in the process. Both boys were putting up a fair fight, each being about the same height and weight, completely forgetting their wands in the total bliss of pounding on each other.

Harry was completely oblivious to everything around him except for Malfoy who was still thrashing beneath him. He could vaguely hear Zabini shouting, "Oh shit! Oh fuck!" and then another voice, panic-stricken, shouting, "PULL THEM APART, PULL THEM APART!"

A minute later two arms were grabbing at the waist of Harry's robes and once they got a firm grip, threw him off of Malfoy. Scrambling to prepare for the next attack, Harry spun around, finally noticing that Ron and Hermione were in the room too.

Ron was staring down at him as he lay on the floor, a look of exertion on his freckled face. It must've been him who had thrown Harry.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" he exclaimed.

Harry sat up and wiped the blood from his face. More trickled out from his cut lip. He looked over at Malfoy who didn't look much better than himself. He was glaring at Harry and was sporting a bleeding nose and rather disheveled hair.

"Harry, what were you _thinking_?" Hermione demanded. Harry looked at her. She was pink in the face and looked quite frantic. "You both need to get up to the hospital wing, you're bleeding!"

"No!" Malfoy shouted suddenly, standing up. "We'll be killed if the teachers find out we were fighting! Don't you dare go to the hospital wing, Potter!"

Hermione glared at him. "But you're bleeding-" she began, but Harry cut her off. As much as he wanted to go to the hospital wing just because Malfoy had said not to, he knew that the blond was right. The staff couldn't find out, especially now that Harry and Malfoy were Head Boys, Harry didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore on the first night of the job.

"No, we can't go to the hospital wing, we _will_ get killed, besides it's only a cut lip- I can deal." Ron then leant a hand to pull Harry to his feet.

"As can I," Malfoy said indignantly.

"Oh shut up, Ferret," Ron said as he helped Harry brush off his robes.

Malfoy let out an incensed sound, taking a step toward Ron, but Hermione stepped in-between them.

"I will not stand here and watch another fight!" she said angrily. "_You two_," she pointed at Harry and Malfoy, "are Head Boy! _You're_ a prefect," she rounded on Ron, "And we're _all_ seventh years and so you should _all_ know better!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Mudblood," he spat and this time Harry lunged towards him.

"NO!" Hermione shouted. "Stop, stop, _stop_! Harry, he's not worth it so just _stop_!"

Harry's brows knitted together in frustration. "How the hell did you two end up in here anyway?" he asked Ron and Hermione, folding his arms in front of him.

"We looked up from dinner and you weren't there, mate," said Ron. "You didn't even tell us you were going anywhere."

"Yes I did, I said goodbye to both of you but you didn't notice because…" Harry turned to Hermione, "you were _fighting_."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "We were arguing not fighting, and besides are you saying that you'd have preferred it if Ron and I hadn't broken you up so that you could get hurt enough that you _had_ to go to the hospital wing?"

Harry pursed his lips and said nothing, knowing that she was right.

"That's what I thought," she said calmly but with a smug undertone. "Now," she continued in a business like voice, "Ron and I came up here to tell you goodnight, but now I'm not so sure if we should leave you two alone."

"You _have_ to leave," came Malfoy's stuck-up response. "You aren't allowed to stay here and you certainly _won't_ be staying here."

Ron and Hermione gave him narrowed-eye looks but Harry merely frowned. Malfoy was right, no matter how much Harry wished his friends could stay.

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione and led them over toward the Gryffindor entrance, throwing Malfoy a dirty look over his shoulder. Malfoy seemed pleased that Harry was escorting his friends in the direction of their exit after what he had just said.

"I'll be fine," Harry said quietly once the three friends had reached the door, "You guys can just head up to bed- it's getting near curfew and I don't want Malfoy giving you guys detention, because he will.

"But Harry, I don't want you two to start anything again," Hermione said worriedly.

"You sound like my mum, Hermione," Ron cut in, throwing Harry a small grin. "I know you can handle it, mate and I _don't_ want detention, so Hermione, let's go."

Harry gave him a grateful look and Ron grabbed Hermione by the arm to pull her to the door.

"Let's just wait until Blaise leaves," she whispered furiously and Ron rolled his eyes but ceased his pulling.  
Harry shook his head at Hermione and leaned against the wall, wondering when he had stopped being seventeen and started being five.

They ended up not having to wait long for Zabini to leave. Only two minutes of small talk had happened before the black-haired boy was nearly beside them and leaving out the Slytherin entrance. He threw Harry, Ron, and Hermione a scathing look as he left, but he didn't say anything. Malfoy was still standing over where he had been, looking quite the fool with dried blood on his face.

"Okay Hermione, can we go now?" asked Ron exasperatedly.

"Yes I suppose so… Harry are you sure you-"

"Yes Hermione I'm sure. Your concern is appreciated but I really am tired."

Ron grabbed her by her arm again. "Night, Harry," he called over her head.

"Yes goodnight, Harry and go straight up to bed!" Hermione said before the door was shut behind her and a pressing silence filled the room.

Harry turned to find Malfoy still standing in the same spot with a loathsome look on his face.

"What?" he asked irritably. Harry ignored him and moved across the room to climb the stairs and go to bed.  
Merlin, what a year it was going to be.

Once upstairs, he threw off his shoes and socks and pulled off his clothes. He didn't feel like finding pajamas as the stress of the day finally hit him full force. He just wanted to get underneath the undoubtedly comfortable bed coverings and _sleep_.

Just as he had kicked all of his clothes to the side of his bed the door that led into Malfoy's room sprung open.

Harry's eyes widened and he stood bolt upright. Malfoy stared him down for a second before his eyes went wide with shock.

"Oh," he said, seeming caught off guard. "I didn't know this led into your room." He took a small step back but remained in the doorway.

Harry didn't really mind Malfoy seeing him in his boxers; they were close to, if not the same thing as swim trunks. It was the fact that Malfoy had startled him that made him angry and that he really wanted nothing to do with him at the moment.

"Well, get out!" Harry yelled looking furious.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and made a rude hand gesture, but indeed pulled the door shut.

No sooner had Harry got himself together and settled again, when quite suddenly a tremendous uproar sounded from the opposite room. Harry jumped again as Malfoy stormed in, clearly angry about something.

"POTTER!" he shouted, sounding just like the Potions Master. "THERE IS NO LOCK ON THIS DOOR!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. Why on earth was Malfoy yelling at _him_?

"Well spotted." Harry said moving to sit on his bed. As he climbed atop it he continued, "No wonder you're the Slytherin Seeker."

Malfoy was _fuming_. Harry thought steam might come flying out his ears any second.

"How does that imbecile of a man expect me to sleep feeling safe, with bloody fucking Harry Potter right next to me, able to get into my room at any hour of the night?"

Harry shrugged and held down a snort.

"Perhaps he did it on purpose so that you couldn't sleep?" He laughed enjoying his control over Malfoy's rage. The blond crossed his arms and looked at Harry sitting in bed as if he were a bug he wished to step on which, Harry reminded himself, was probably true.

"I don't know why you're so cool with it," he said, his sulky looking face now splitting into an evil grin. "How do you know that I won't come into _your_ room in the middle of the night?"

"Because if you do then you'll be extremely sorry that you did," Harry said angrily.

Malfoy let out a small derisive laugh and took a step towards Harry and Harry wondered if he should prepare for another attack. He wasn't at all afraid of Malfoy, but being faced with a fully clothed person, which would mean a better armored person, was making him a bit nervous. He pulled up his covers but stayed sitting up.  
Malfoy took a few more steps towards Harry but halfway to his bed he seemed to change his mind.

"Have it your way then, Potter," he said, shooting Harry one last angry look before heading back to his own room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

Harry immediately jumped up, dragged his trunk over to the door, and cast a spell on it to make it as heavy as a boulder.

Feeling a considerable amount better, Harry returned to his bed. He burrowed down under his duvet, and finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up drenched in cold sweat, a popular scene for him. He sat up and took heavy unsteady breaths. _Not another nightmare_, he thought to himself. It took him a moment to calm completely down.

He tried to remember what the dream had been about. There had been blood, had it been him that was injured? He couldn't remember. There had been something that he was supposed to find, or save, or at least something along those lines- but what had it been? He couldn't remember anything.

Harry pondered his dream for a moment longer, but when nothing came to mind he sighed, exasperated, knowing from previous experience that he would never be able to remember. He leaned back into his pillows and attempted to try and fall back to sleep but failed miserably.

Groaning and getting to his feet, he pulled on his bath robe and descended the stairs deciding that he wanted some pumpkin juice.

* * *

Draco was wide-awake, lying in bed listening to Potter toss and turn in his own bed. He could hear him shout something every once in a while, and then Potter would give an all mighty jump and rock the headboard, which would bump against the wall.

At first he had been annoyed that the noise had awoken him but now he was very interested. It was common knowledge that Scarhead suffered from horrible nightmares sometimes, but Draco had never actually known the rumors to be true.

He wondered what was going on inside of Potter's head at this second. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.  
He listened intently to see if he could catch the gist of what Potter was dreaming about. Something about The Dark Lord perhaps? Death Eaters? He didn't know, but he wouldn't have minded finding out.

Quite suddenly the noises stopped. It was apparent that Potter had just woken up. Draco remained deathly still trying to see if he could hear Potter possibly say anything out loud to himself, but all he heard was the headboard bang the wall again, and the distant closing of a door. Potter had left his room then. Draco leaned back into his pillows and sighed.

He really was in for quite a year.

* * *

Yay for comments! Hint hint :P 


	5. We May Just Have Something Here

**We May Just Have Something Here**

Draco awoke groggy eyed, his usually perfect hair splayed all over his face. He groaned and reached over blindly to turn off his screaming alarm.

He hadn't gotten very much sleep last night with Potter banging and moaning the whole time. And then his thoughts had kept him up even later.

He stayed in bed for five more minutes before he sensed that if he didn't get up now he never would. He got slowly to his feet, muscles sore from the fighting of the previous night. Shuffling across the room, he opened the door and began his descent.

Class was the very last place Draco wanted to be going to at the moment; at least he would have something intriguing to tell Blaise. He knew for sure that he would be interested in a nightmare had by The Boy Who Lived and that served as his motivation to get up and get dressed.

When Draco reached the bottom of the staircase he was met with the sight of a very tousle-haired someone fast asleep on the Gryffindor couch.

Draco cocked his head to the side; Potter really was a fool then. There he was, lying on the couch in plain sight of someone he knew hated him, someone he had actually fought with not a few hours before. The things Draco could do to Potter right then- the possibilities were endless.

The ideas chased themselves around in Draco's mind for a few moments, simple, rather stupid hexes really, but then he decided he really was too old for those sorts of juvenile pranks, although a good Leg-locker jinx could produce a good laugh every now and again.

To be truthful, he was really too old to be fighting with Potter at all (or at least the way they fought with each other), but it always seemed inevitable. Sure, Potter's angry, about-to-explode face still gave him a chuckle, but Draco was of age now and certainly his father would look down upon him for such childish practical jokes.

He could almost see his father's frowning face, staring at him through that curtain of blond hair.

"You used _that_ on him, Draco?" he could hear Lucius say, "Why not use the Cruciatus Curse? Perfect opportunity, he's sleeping, no one else around. Nobody would know. Just cast it and watch him suffer."

Draco shuddered and let go of his wand, which he had been subconsciously clutching inside his robe pocket. He _could_ do it right now, he _could_ cast the Cruciatus Curse and watch Potter squirm and whither around, screaming in agony… or could he? Perhaps if he were angry enough he could, but he didn't know if he had _that_ much hatred for Potter, to be able to do it without any real motives.

Casting the Cruciatus wasn't something you could do just because you had the knowledge of how to do it. You had to _want_ to do it, you had to _want_ to hear someone scream, end their lives in the most painful way you could, and Draco didn't know if he really wanted that for anyone and that, strangely enough, scared him.

What if he didn't have what it takes to become a Death Eater, what if he couldn't live up to what was expected of him? He might be able to deal with his father, but he certainly couldn't deal with the Dark Lord. No one could.

Draco turned away from Potter, wanting to do something to get his mind off of things and then realized with a start how much time he had spent just staring at Scarhead.

He headed towards the bathroom. Once inside it he took a moment to truly look around. As much as he hated the fact that the room was half Potter's, he couldn't deny its superiority. He was especially impressed, after he shed his clothing and made his way to the showers, to find that each of the five taps held a different expensive soap imported from France. It was the exact soap he and his parents used at the manor. He selected his favorite smell (the one the girls always told him they liked) and turned the tap. Stepping under the hot jet of water made Draco feel instantly relaxed although, to his immense displeasure, the water couldn't turn his brain off.

In a few months time his father would be out of prison- the dementers were already leaving one by one to join the Dark Lord. When Lucius Malfoy was out, Draco would be expected to take the Dark Mark and follow in his father's footsteps. He would of course be taking the Mark but it was strange knowing that in just a short while he would _officially_ become an enemy of the boy sleeping just outside.

He was ultimately taking the Mark to please his father and to ensure his own safety. He wasn't in it for any of the Dark Lord's ideas. Draco actually thought The Dark Lord was a bit insane. If _he_ could manage to give Potter a bloody lip, then why couldn't one of the most powerful wizards in all of history catch Potter and kill him?

The fact that catching a seventeen-year-old was the very core of all of You-Know-Who's plans annoyed Draco to no end. He couldn't understand why his father looked up to a man who had such mad notions. Well, perhaps he could see why his father had _begun_ to follow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, before all of the crap with Potter. Back then, the Dark Lord had wanted to rid the wizarding race of mudblood filth. Now _that_ was something Draco could understand.

He hated all of the muggle grime tainting _his_ race, _his_ people. What if the wizards died out because of all the mixed blood? He couldn't bear the thought, but the Dark Lord had lost sight of that seventeen years ago.

All of this was the very reason he hated Harry Potter.

Potter was a fierce advocate of muggles and mudbloods alike and was himself a half-blood. He supported all of Dumbledore's stupid ideals, and had befriended a family of one of the most noted blood-traitors, ever. Everything about _The Golden Boy_ made Draco cringe.

He was also (even if he didn't like to admit it), somewhat intimidated by Potter. Potter gave Draco a run for his money on the Quidditch field and also wasn't very easy to bully. He still remembered the first time Potter had physically hit him, that day on the pitch; he'd been with both Weasley twins. Yes, Draco remembered that well.

Draco much preferred the reactions he got from _most_ people when he insulted them. They usually got quiet and walked away, acknowledging Draco's superiority, but not Harry Potter. With an insult to Potter, Draco usually got detention and a black eye, but it was all worth it of course.

Draco never would've believed he'd be stuck in a room with Potter. This year was supposed to be the ultimate year. The year when Draco would have run of the school and as many girls as he wanted and be worshiped by the Slytherins, but no, Potter had to come in and ruin everything, like always.

When Dumbledore had contacted Draco's mother about the Head Boy situation, Narcissa had come to Hogwarts in an instant. Privately, she had explained to Draco the advantage that he now held for his father. She had made him agree to obey the rules and listen to the Headmaster. Acquiescing to his mother's request, he did as she asked. It had of course made him angry and had made him feel used, but Draco was a good boy and he _always_ did as his mummy told him. His own submissiveness made him feel stupid and sick.

Draco rolled his eyes. There was no use in dwelling on things he knew he could not change. He was stuck with You-Know-Who, he was stuck with taking the Dark Mark, and he was stuck sharing a room with Potter. There was nothing for it.

Draco sighed and continued lathering up; he hadn't been expecting someone else to want to wash up too.

"Good morning," said an all-too-hated voice behind him. Draco jumped at least a foot in the air. Harry Potter was standing there stark naked.

* * *

Harry awoke feeling quite sore. Not only had there been the fight from the previous night, but he had also been lying on the couch at a very odd angle and regretted not returning to bed.

He rubbed his eyes and stared around. The room was much too bright and he assumed that the light had been what had awoken him.

Looking at his watch Harry realized it was time for him to get up anyway. He didn't feel like going to class and he sat on the couch rubbing his neck for a few moments, thinking seriously about skiving off.

"It would never do to cut classes on the second day of them, Harry," he imagined Hermione saying to him sternly. Harry rolled his eyes; even his imaginary Hermione was a pain.

He got to his feet and did a few toe touches to straighten out his back. He could hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and groaned. Malfoy had beaten him to the showers.

Harry sighed heavily and sat back down, how long was Malfoy going to take? He glanced at his watch again and knew that if he wanted to smell okay for the rest of the day, he was going to _have_ to shower, but he was _not_ going in there. He would wait it out.

A minute passed, and then five minutes passed, and then ten minutes, and when fifteen minutes had passed Harry, feeling disgruntled because Ron had been right, jumped up from the couch and sprinted to the bathroom door. He had roughly 20 minutes to get ready if he wanted breakfast.

The room was filled with steam as was expected and Harry stripped down quickly, throwing his clothes in a messy pile next to Malfoy's, which were neatly folded.

He entered the shower region and could see Malfoy standing with his back turned, completely naked. Harry, to his own annoyance, couldn't help noticing that Malfoy was very fit; perhaps this was the reason he had heard Malfoy got more action than any other boy in their year. For a second he self-consciously wondered what _his_ body looked like.

Malfoy seemed to be enjoying his shower and hadn't noticed Harry come in.

"Good morning." Harry said loudly, announcing his company. He almost burst out laughing when Malfoy jumped a foot in the air and spun around wildly.

Malfoy's eyes immediately narrowed as he looked at Harry.

"What do you want?" he spat angrily.

"A shower," Harry replied moving over to another tap as far from Malfoy as he could get. He felt oddly insecure, as if being in the shower with the blond was somehow giving him something to use against him. He'd never felt like that in front of any of his dorm mates in the Gryffindor showers.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and started washing again, but Harry threw a quick glance at him to make sure he wasn't looking. To his surprise he noticed that Malfoy's usually disgustingly proud posture was slumped a bit, as if he were embarrassed or nervous.

Harry disregarded this and, feeling strangely embarrassed himself, chose a tap that claimed to have soap that smelled like a mixture of vanilla and some other more masculine scent, the combination was actually quite nice.

"Couldn't you have waited?" Malfoy asked from across the room.

"No," Harry said, keeping his eyes firmly on the wall in front of him. He began covering his own body with soap. "It's almost time to go to class. I tried waiting, but apparently you take hour long showers."

Malfoy rolled his eyes again and ignored him, but for the rest of the shower he made little sounds of annoyance and threw Harry quite a few disgruntled glances which he successfully ignored.

Once they were both done with their showers they fought for a moment over a towel they had grabbed at the same time.

"Merlin, just take it!" Harry said after a few moments of pointless tugging. He let the towel go and watched with satisfaction as Malfoy stumbled back.

The blond sneered and wrapped the towel around his hips and then strutted over to the sink to brush his teeth and do his hair. He pushed intentionally into Harry on the way over. Harry clenched his fist to keep from hitting the Ferret.

Harry was at his own sink for a total of five minutes. He brushed his teeth and shook the water out of his hair with his hands and then turned to leave and get dressed. Malfoy was leaning very close to the mirror, examining his hair meticulously.

Harry eyed him for a moment. How could anyone care that much about what they looked like?

"Is there something you want?" Malfoy asked Harry, looking at him from the mirror.

Harry didn't even open his mouth to respond; he simply gave a half tired look of annoyance and left the room to get dressed. Was this the way every morning was going to be? He hoped not.

It didn't take him long to pull on his uniform and then he was grabbing his books and going down the stairs once again. Malfoy was only just heading up to his room and Harry thanked Merlin that he wouldn't have to walk down to breakfast with him.

* * *

The Great Hall was buzzing with activity. The many students that were sitting at the four house tables were still catching up with each other after a whole summer apart.

Many of them were rubbing their eyes or yawing. Most of the boys looked tousled, as if they had gotten up and ready within a few short minutes and most of the girls looked a bit more undone then they would usually be looking. Everything seemed to be going at its usual pace for the second day of the school year, but there were two students who were conspicuous because of their absence: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

If you were a student at Hogwarts and you weren't deaf or blind then you would be able to guess why these two boys were missing.

Everyone had heard Dumbledore announce the Head Boys at the feast and had now had a whole day to talk it over. Naturally, because of the way news traveled at Hogwarts, almost the entire school had acquired the knowledge that Head students shared a room. It was knowledge that hadn't been very common before simply because no one had really cared that much, but when Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were the new Head Boys then everyone took notice.

What new entertaining rows and arguments would there be to witness in the corridors, what would happen between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins now that both their leaders would be at each other's throats constantly? Surely nothing good, but undoubtedly enjoyable.

The buzz around school had even reached some of the teacher's ears who were wary about the whole situation rater than excited or intrigued, or at least most of them were.

If at that moment you looked at Dumbledore, who was eating his bacon, you would be able to see the tiniest of smiles gracing his wise face as he watched Harry finally entering the Hall shortly followed by Draco.

Haughty expressions on their faces, they took their saved seats with their friends and began to eat. Draco went into a very loud rant about the awful morning and night he had had while Harry exchanged dark looks and quiet words with only Ron and Hermione. It was obvious that the boys first time in their room together hadn't been enjoyable for either of them, but Dumbledore continued to smile.

Professor McGonagall however, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right side, was frowning as she stared at Harry and Draco.

"Albus?" she asked firmly.

"Yes, Minerva?" answered Dumbledore, turning to face her politely.

"Are you looking at the same boys that I am looking at?"

"Assuming that you are referring to Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, then yes I am," he replied happily.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Then what on earth are you smiling about?" she asked quite seriously. "Look at them Albus- they are obviously unhappy and I can't even begin to imagine what they will be like after the first week is over."

Dumbledore continued to smile happily. "Oh, I know they're unhappy and I know that they will be for quite a while."

McGonagall raised both eyebrows now. "And you're pleased with that?" she asked in a tone near incredulousness.

"No, of course not," Dumbledore said, but didn't say anything other than that.

McGonagall began to become visibly irritated, her nose flaring a bit. "Albus, you know perfectly well how _I_ feel about this. I haven't thought it was a good idea from the beginning. Honestly, putting two boys who belong to one of the biggest school rivalries since-" she shot a quick glance at Snape who was sitting on Dumbledore's left side "… it simply cannot lead to anything good."

"Ah, but you are not looking at the situation with the same view as I am," said Dumbledore serenely. "And forgive me for correcting you, but _I_ did not choose Harry and Draco."

McGonagall blew air from her nose in an impatient manner. "This isn't the Goblet of Fire we're talking about! You know good and well that you can ultimately decide the Head Students! The emblem just makes a suggestion and wasn't used for years before you!"

Dumbledore looked at Professor McGonagall with something akin to fairness, as though contemplating her. "Yes that is true," he said, "although there hasn't been a Headmaster or Mistress in years that went against the emblem's decision when it was used. It does, after all, pick the best students in the year."

McGonagall was still having none of it. "Perhaps it's malfunctioned this year," she said simply. "I cannot see the point of this, Albus. Why put the Prefects through all the arguments they're bound to have? Why do this to the boys themselves? This is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake. Have you not watched them for the past six years? How I ask you, _how_ can anything good come of this?"

Dumbledore's smile faded a bit. "I have watched them for the past six year and I can understand why your first instinct would be to never allow those two boys to be stuck inside a room together, I can see why you would want me to choose someone else to take on the major responsibility of being head Boy, but I must choose to act upon my instinct that tells me that this is best. I do believe, strongly in fact, that something very good may come of this."

McGonagall shook her head and picked up her fork although she did not begin eating. "I just don't have a very good feeling about it. I would say more, but given where we are right now I'll refrain, but I will say this: some of the reason this makes me wary has nothing to do with school rivalry," and then with one last meaningful look she finally lifted some food to her mouth.

Dumbledore was now looking serious. "Yes, it is wise not to discuss that here, but I'm going to assume I know what you're talking about and say that I have given it a great deal of thought and I have come to the conclusion that-"

"Ahem."

Dumbledore turned to his left where Snape was sitting sipping some coffee. He put down his mug and turned a bit to face Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Severus?" said Dumbledore.

"Please forgive me Headmaster but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Normally I would leave this between the both of you, but on this I feel a need to comment."

"Please do, Severus. This is as much your business as it is ours," said Dumbledore with a nod of his head, indicating that he wished Snape to continue.

"I must say that I agree with Minerva on this topic. As you both are aware, my classes are taught with both the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. I witness the relationship between Potter and Malfoy weekly and-"

"Don't you see, Albus?" McGonagall interrupted, "_We_ see them in corridors and at Quidditch, but Severus sees them together on a weekly bases for full class periods and he knows how they behave- am I correct Severus?"

Snape gave a jerky nod of his head and a strained smile. "Yes that is true, but I was just about to say that I have already taught their class this week and when I entered the dungeons I was greeted by Potter lunging at Malfoy. They are already resorting to physical violence. Headmaster, do you think it advisable to allow this to continue?"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed and he looked down at his plate in thought. Snape continued.

"Forgive me sir but I only expect it to grow worse as the year progresses and, please excuse my bluntness, but I cannot think it anything but foolish to keep them as Head Boy. Perhaps if one of them were removed," here Snape threw a very quick glance in Harry's direction, "and replaced with another student, things would be much better off."

Dumbledore gave a small sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "I can see your point," he said, "but once again I must act upon my instinct. That is not to say that I don't value your advice, I value it greatly, from both of you, but…" he trailed off as his eyes traveled back down to stare once again at Harry and Draco.

"Alright," said McGonagall sitting up even straighter then usual. "Let us put everything we've mentioned before aside. These are not just any students, this is not just some Gryffindor seventh year nor just some Slytherin seventh year. Being that he is in my house I happen to know that Potter is somewhat of a leader in Gryffindor, he has a great amount of influence over the lot of them and judging by what I've seen I would say that Malfoy is much the same in Slytherin." She looked at Snape.

"Yes, I would say that about Draco," he said. "He does have a lot of influence over his peers." McGonagall nodded curtly and then went on.

"Don't you see Albus? This is not just about the two of them. If relations between them grow worse, then relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin will surely grow worse as well and isn't house unity something you are _always_ stressing?"

Dumbledore smiled again "Funnily enough," he said, "house unity is precisely why I wish them to remain the Head Boys."

Snape and McGonagall both raised skeptical eyebrows. "What?" asked McGonagall.

Dumbledore looked at both of them. "Imagine what could happen if Harry and Draco were to become friends- or more realistically, friendly acquaintances- now I know that you both feel that this is rather unlikely," said Dumbledore because Snape and McGonagall had just made noises of disbelief, "but the Headship has been known to bring students together before, why even Harry's own parents began seeing each other while they were Head Boy and Girl and everyone knew how much Lily… disliked James."

"We are dealing with something rather different here," Snape cut in rather harshly. "That was between a Head Boy and _Girl_ who were both of the same house, and the dislike was only coming from one of them. What we are dealing with between Potter and Draco is not a romantic case involving unrequited love; these are two competitive teen boys who will stop at nothing to one up each other. Friendship of any kind between them is highly, _highly_ unlikely, and then to top it all off there's what you were discussing earlier." Snape lowered his voice considerably. "I am not accusing Draco of anything, Headmaster, but he is the son of Lucius Malfoy and well… I'm just saying that… anything is possible. I know very well how the Dark Lord works and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he tried to use Draco in some way to get to Potter."

"Nor would I," agreed Dumbledore seriously. "I have taken this into account and I will be keeping a _very_ sharp eye on both boys. I expect that you will both do the same?"

"Of course," McGonagall and Snape said in unison. Dumbledore nodded.

"I know that this may prove fruitless," he said reasonably, "and if I begin to see that there can be no progress made between Harry and Draco, and they are still fighting of course, then I will take the necessary action and appoint new students. I do want to wait though, at the very least a few months-"

"But, Albus," McGonagall interjected, "how on earth could two new students take over after half the year is gone!"

"I have high faith that we will not need to result to that, but if Harry and Draco are not getting the job done then that is what will have to happen."

"Forgive me once again, but couldn't all of this be avoided if two new students were appointed now?" asked Snape.

McGonagall looked expectantly at Dumbledore who had gone back to staring at his two students. He sighed quietly.

"I know I cannot convince you now," he began, "but hopefully, if things go the way I think they will, then you will both begin to see why I am letting this whole thing carry on. There are better times to discus this, away from listening ears; perhaps I can interest you in a visit to my office later this evening?"

Both Snape and McGonagall nodded.

* * *

Comments make me smile . 


	6. When the Going Gets Tough

**Chapter Six: When the Going Gets Tough… You Deal With It **

Draco sat, chewing slowly and glaring heavily at Potter from across the Great Hall. Blaise was still reading the morning paper and Draco threw it a glance. He had already read the story and to say the least, it hadn't put him in a good mood. Potter was reading the paper now, Weasel and Granger hanging over his shoulders like the fucking suck-ups they were.

The headline couldn't have been any louder if it had shouted at him. **_Does Break in Chaos Mean Prison Break?_** Honestly, the people at the _Prophet_ grew stupider and stupider every day with their ridiculous headlines, but it had caught his attention nonetheless.

The article was of course all about the Death Eaters that had been captured at the Ministry a year ago, his father included. It annoyed Draco that the only reason the papers were reporting on this particular story was because of a lack of real news. The pages of _The Daily Prophet_ and other notable news sources had been sending out empty stories for weeks now. The Dark Lord had mysteriously stopped wrecking havoc on the wizarding world, and it had everyone anxiously awaiting his next attack. Many people, like the morning's article read, seemed to think that the lack of activity from the Dark Lord meant that he was devising a plan to break his followers out of Azkaban; Draco thought they were probably right. No one knew for sure of course, certainly not the wizarding press, but even they were known to have a hit every once in a while, right?

Draco _hated_ reading stories about the fiasco at the Ministry, especially when they were written without any real point at all, just to remind the public that the big dogs weren't completely useless. The stories always made Draco feel queasy and embarrassed, as if it had been him at the Ministry that night and not his father. They inevitably also made him think about when his father would be getting out of prison and what that would mean for him when it happened. He wanted his father out of Azkaban, he did. He couldn't imagine what sorts of things the man had been put through, but he was also afraid of getting the Mark. He was ashamed to admit it, but he always wished that the break out would be delayed for just a little longer, always a little longer. It wasn't as if he needed to be reminded of his predicament at breakfast every other week.

Draco went back to glaring at Potter now. His face didn't look too worried about the news, but his eyes were slightly narrowed as he tossed the paper aside and continued on with his breakfast. Draco stared at him for a few more moments but the idiot boy wonder didn't even pay him one glace and it made him angrier then he already was. Of course he wouldn't look at Draco; he never did, even when the article had said the name Malfoy twelve times. He was too bent on saving the world to care about anything but himself and his two stupid friends. Draco snorted at his own thought. If Potter ended up saving the world he would get to his knees and kiss Dumbledore's old, wrinkly arse. The Dark Lord and Potter would probably end up killing each other.

Blaise finally finished with the paper and turned to Draco. "You think they're right?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Draco shrugged, wanting to look as if the article hadn't bothered him. "If they are, they have no idea," he said carelessly.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah probably, but I bet they're right. It has to be getting close; it's already been more than a bloody year."

"Yeah," Draco said, and he didn't speak again until it was time for classes.

* * *

"Going to Nott's party tonight?" asked Blaise as he and Draco strolled into the corridor from their Transfiguration lesson.

Draco shook his head. "Can't, I have to patrol- 10:00 to midnight and so does Pansy and all the other prefects."

Blaise groaned. "Nott's a fucking genius," he said sarcastically. "Count on him to have a party when half the bloody house has duty."

Draco shrugged and began to make his way down the stairs to the Great Hall for dinner. "You might be able to get a lay," he said, "and I'm sure you'll be able to get plenty pissed- Nott's fire whisky connections are 99 percent of the reason his parties are ever any good."

"Yeah well," said Blaise. "A lay will be easy and I might even go as far as to say inevitable- getting drunk too, but what's the fun of that if you're not there?"

Draco smirked. "You don't need me to oversee you fucking someone do you?" he asked derisively.

Blaise smirked right back. "You know what I mean."

Draco let out a quiet laugh. "I'd much rather be going to a party then going off to catch fucking little brats out of bed." It was true, but he would also like to be going to the party so that he could get drunker then hell and forget the plethora of concerns weighing him down for a few hours. But of course not, it was just his luck that patrol nights for himself and Potter were Fridays, every fucking week for the rest of the year. He had to admit that only having to patrol one night a week was a nice Head Boy perk, much better then the three nights a week deal the prefects got, but it didn't make him want to go.

"Ah well, bad luck I guess," Blaise said with a shrug.

Draco snorted and the pair continued on their way to dinner.

Classes had gone slowly, probably because Draco had just wanted the day to be over; he wanted this first week to be done with.

When dinner was done and over with, Draco had bid Blaise goodnight and began towards his post for the patrol, but a light hand on his shoulder had stopped him. Draco turned his head to see who it belonged to and found himself face to face with Pansy.

"Hi," she said with a gentle smirk and a raise of her eyebrow.

Draco smirked as well and continued on his way, Pansy right next to him. "Good evening," he said simply. He should've known she'd do this.

"You've hardly spoken to me at all this week," she said, looking at her fingernails as they walked along.

Draco rolled his eyes, but it was all in good fun. "I've had a lot to do," he said, keeping his same simple tone.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, has that big, nice, new room been keeping you occupied?"

Draco gave a short laugh. "Perhaps you've forgotten that it comes complete with a deranged savoir?"

She scoffed at him. "Please, Draco. Don't tell me you can't get away from him. Blaise has told me how big your room is, and that you have your _own_ sleeping quarters… he isn't coming in _there_ is he?"

"God, no, I'd have to kill myself then, and besides, he isn't the only thing I've been dealing with."

"Oh, no?"

"I'll have you know, being head Boy isn't _all_ fun and games, there's work involved as well."

She was smiling now. "Work? What kind of work?"

"Work that your refined ears couldn't possibly handle hearing about."

She snickered. "Oh my poor, poor baby! How _will_ you make it through the year?"

Draco was laughing lightly now too. "I haven't a clue," he said, and despite his playing, he thought that maybe there was a bit of truth in that last answer.

"So," Pansy started in a more serious tone, "Where are you patrolling tonight?"

"Fifth floor and yourself?"

"Third. Who are you partnered up with?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Who do you think?"

She smirked again. "Ah, well have fun."

"I'm sure I'll have so much I won't know what to do with myself," Draco drawled sarcastically. "I'm supposed to show him the duties of a patrol; I suppose Dumbledore thinks he's too much of an idiot to figure things out on his own."

She laughed at that. "Please, he's probably heading off with Granger and Weasley this very second. I'll be surprised if you even see him."

Draco sighed. "You're probably right. I'll spend all night walking these damned corridors alone and for no reason, the younger students aren't brave enough to sneak out in the first week of school, and the older ones never get caught." He made himself sound as pitiful as he could, knowing that Pansy would bite.

Pansy smiled slyly at him. "I could offer you an alternative."

"Could you?"

She nodded. "I could," she said, and then she trailed a finger down Draco's neck.

He gave her a sly look of his own. "Why Pansy, we haven't fucked against a wall in the longest time."

She slid her hand inside his robe and into his back pocket. "Are you offering?" she whispered into his ear in what would be a seductive voice to anyone who wasn't immune to it. Draco stopped walking suddenly and pushed her up against the wall so quickly, it made her gasp in shock.

"Maybe," he said, getting so close to her he could feel her heart beat against his chest, and then he let her go and continued on his way, prominent smirk in place. "I thought it was you who was offering."

She stayed pressed against the wall for a few seconds before she caught up with Draco, smoothing her black chin-length hair. "You're a prick," she said, sounding truly flustered. They _had_ been apart for nearly the entire summer and the whole week.

Draco gave a low chuckle. "Are you really thinking about it that much?" he asked, grabbing his cock rather lewdly and giving it a little shake.

She rolled her eyes at him again but this time it was serious. "Please, Draco, I know you want it too. It's been the whole summer."

"How do you know I haven't already fucked someone?"

"I talk to everyone one you fuck."

"Ah yes, I keep forgetting." Actually he knew that rather well and fucked girls Pansy talked to just to make her jealous, he liked the extra attention.

She made a sound through her nose and crossed her arms but didn't say anything else.

Draco smiled. So she was going to play _that_ game was she? "Let me guess, you aren't going to let me touch you now, are you?" he chuckled, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear only to have her pull away.

She continued to remain silent, glaring, and Draco actually frowned. There was true emotion behind the glare, not the fake anger he usually saw there.

"What?" he asked, stopping so that she walked a few paces ahead of him before whirling around.

"You're still treating this like it's a game." She spoke calmly but Draco could sense the anger behind her words.

"Merlin, what the fuck are you on about now?" This was the last thing he needed. Perhaps he should've fucked her against the wall when he had the opportunity.

"It's seventh year, Draco!" Draco groaned inwardly, _shit_. "You know what we're supposed to do at the end of this year, yet you'll still fuck around, while I'm stuck waiting for you! It's not like I have a fucking choice, everyone treats me like I'm out of bounds because of you! And yet there _you_ are, fucking every damn girl you see!"

Draco really did groan now. "I already told you I don't care who you fuck," he said, exasperated.

"You know how everyone is Draco! You know they won't touch me unless you personally told them to and even then they'd probably think it was some fucking test of loyalty and still wouldn't touch me!" Draco did know this of course. _And it had better damn well stay that way_, he thought. Pansy wasn't his girlfriend, he'd never had one, but she _was_ his.

"Why must you bring this up _now,_ Pansy?"

"Oh! Go ahead and act like you're the only one who has problems! Act like _you_ have so much to worry about! I have shit to worry about too! You should've heard my mum this summer! 'Oh such a shame about Draco's father, perhaps you could cheer him up, Pansy' or 'I was just talking to Narcissa the other day, Pansy, and she says Draco's grown so much over the summer'! She's fucking pushing me, Draco! Don't tell me your mother hasn't been doing the same!"

She was right; Draco's mother had talked an awful lot about Pansy over the summer, so much so that it had grown annoying. Pansy was who he was supposed to marry. His parents would never force him to marry anyone, but they made it no secret how much they wanted it to be Pansy. She was pureblood, Slytherin, pretty, came from old money, and they both liked her to boot. Draco liked Pansy too, but not in that way. Sure, he'd fucked her more then he had any other girl, but she was still more a friend to him then anything else. He didn't love Pansy.

She seemed to read his mind. "I don't love you either, Draco! But you know as well as I do that we're going to have to do this! God, what is it with you and falling in love anyway?"

Draco glared. "I don't _have_ to do anything," he said, sounding like his father, but Merlin was that ever a lie! There were a lot of things he _had_ to do; marrying Pansy Parkinson was probably going to be one of them. "And I _don't_ care about being in love." That was a lie too, one that he told himself often. He didn't know why he wanted to fall in love, he wanted what his parents were lucky to have found he supposed. He wanted to look at a woman one day with the same expression his father wore when he looked at his mother, he wanted to be able to come home to a woman who would be genuinely happy to see him and support whatever he chose to do with his life. Many times he'd wondered if perhaps his parents had worked at falling in love, but the more he tried to picture that with Pansy, the more unlikely it became., there was just something… _missing_ with her.

Pansy laughed at him. "You can't hide that from me Draco Malfoy! You can try, but I know you too well."

Draco snorted. "Oh you know me, do you? There's so much you don't know, it'd make you sick!"

Pansy gave a heavy sigh and backed up to the wall before leaning against it. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. "I did not come here for this," she said quietly. "I followed you for a quick fuck, not to have a row with you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You started it, I was just playing around and you decided to get all angry with me."

"Well it makes me angry when you take pleasure out of the knowledge that you're the only boy I can fuck."

Draco rolled his eyes and simply stared at her.

She finally opened her eyes and pushed herself off the wall coming to stand right in front of him. "Look," she said softly, bringing her arms up to wrap loosely around Draco's neck. "I know you have other shit going on, and this whole Head Boy mess probably has you stressed out, and don't forget that I read the paper this morning too, but we really do need to talk about this. Now may not be the time, but just think about it, okay?"

It sometimes shocked Draco that Pansy could read him so well, sometimes even better then Blaise could. He gave a small nod and just a tiny roll of his eyes.

Pansy gave him a strained, but genuine smile in return and then got up on tip toe to press a short gentle kiss to his lips. He kept his mouth closed, but couldn't deny that it felt good.

She stopped the kiss but didn't let him go and they just stood like that in the middle of the corridor for what felt like a long time while they were both supposed to be patrolling, Draco's hands lightly resting on the small of Pansy's back, her fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. They just stood there and stared at each other. It wasn't uncomfortable; they were reading each other's faces, each trying to see what they really thought of the situation they were in.

Draco didn't know why, but he leaned in and kissed Pansy. She kissed back and it felt innocent enough at first, but it didn't take long before Pansy's robe was on the floor and she was pressed against the wall again, only this time Draco wasn't backing away.

"It has been too long," he whispered before tonguing her ear.

She gave a quiet moan and tried pushing Draco's robes off his shoulders.

_This_ was why he always came back to Pansy. She'd fuck any way, anywhere, at any time. It was rough and good and… maybe not quite hot, he didn't think he'd ever really had mind-blowing, _hot_ sex, but it was definitely good.

He pushed his body flush against her and she clawed at his back, pulling his white shirt out of his trousers and then clutching at his heated, bare skin. Draco vaguely remembered that they would be right in plain sight of anyone that decided to take a walk down the corridor, but he was too far gone to care. He managed to pull down her panties and began struggled with his fly, pulling on his zipper with fumbling fingers. It _had_ been far too long and he couldn't stop now. He leaned in to nibble Pansy's neck at the base of her shoulder when a bright light suddenly shone directly in his face. He pulled back from Pansy, dazed for a second and disoriented.

He squinted in the light and tried to push the wand away, brilliant with its _lumos_ spell, but it stayed annoyingly put.

"What the fuck?" Draco asked and then he immediately wished he hadn't said those exact words.

Professor McGonagall stood in front of him, looking furious. "What do you think you are doing, Mr. Malfoy!" she shouted at him, her lips white and her nose so flared that it looked like it might split in two. She looked beside herself, eyes terrifyingly wide. Draco gulped.

"Um," was all he managed. There was no way to lie himself out of this one.

Pansy squeaked and quickly pulled her underwear up and Draco backed away from her and yanked his robes from the floor, pulling them back around himself him to shield his hard-on. It was then that he noticed a very embarrassed, yet angry looking Potter standing just behind McGonagall.

"I cannot believe this!" McGonagall began. "Both Head Boys, not where they are supposed to be! Both of you off with _prefects_! I have never in my _life_ witnessed such behavior! Ms. Parkinson, you should be ashamed! I am writing both of your parents and you both will report to Professor Snape first thing tomorrow morning!" She grabbed Pansy and Draco by the arms and began pulling them down the corridor like misbehaving first years, Potter followed, looking disgruntled.

She led them up a staircase and paused in front of a classroom. She let Pansy go but kept a vice grip on Draco's arm. "Fifty points from Slytherin!" she said looking at them both. "If I ever catch you two at that again I will-" but they didn't learn what she would do, she seemed too angry to say it. "Ms. Parkinson, if you put one _toe_ off this floor before midnight it will be fifty more points!" And then she spun around and began to drag Draco down the corridor again, Potter still tagging along.

She didn't stop until the three of them had climbed two more staircases. Finally they were standing at the patrolling spot on the fifth floor.

"The same goes for you too, Mr. Malfoy," she said, pointing a finger in his face. "And don't think for one minute that you're going to get off so easy, Potter," she continued, suddenly facing him. "I will personally see that you, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley get what you all deserve! Head Boys indeed! I've never even heard of such behavior! You two are supposed to be the best behaved amongst the students! If this is how you will act then I don't know if either of you is fit for this job! If I hear of you boys doing one more thing against the rules- one more, it will be your heads!" then she turned on the spot and marched off.

Draco crossed his arms and glared at the wall in front of him.

Well, bugger.

Potter shifted around a little bit and unintentionally caught Draco's attention. Draco turned to face him, still glaring.

"What?" Potter asked, sounding annoyed.

"This is _your_ fault, you know," Draco stated, glaring even more heavily.

Harry's eyes widened with indignation. "My fault? How is it my fault?"

"You were obviously caught first; if you hadn't been stupid enough to be seen with Weasel and Granger, McGonagall would've never come looking for me. She would've assumed we were where we were supposed to be." Draco knew that it wasn't fair to say this, but he didn't much care what was fair when it came to Potter… or anyone for that matter.

"You say that as if you were taking such great care not to get caught yourself," Potter said angrily.

"She _wouldn't_ have come looking for me if you hadn't been caught first."

Potter rolled his eyes, how dare he roll his eyes at Draco. "Look," Potter said, "I know you don't like taking the blame for stuff that's your own fault, but I don't feel like dealing with it right now. Let's just get moving before McGonagall comes back and yells at us for not doing anything." He started walking quietly down the corridor, lighting his wand tip as he went.

Draco quickly moved to catch up with him but Potter didn't pay him any attention. Draco wasn't at all in the mood to be ignored and found it very irritating that Potter was doing just that.

"You're being rather loud, Potter," he said snottily when the silence had become too much for him. He was aware that he was contradicting himself, but didn't care.

Potter sighed. "Sorry that I don't do things exactly like you do. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" Potter was rather fond of using sarcasm, Draco observed.

"No, I won't forgive you and you really are being too loud. You sound like you're stomping across the floor. Can't you just walk like normal people? Merlin, I can't believe you went off with Granger and Weasel, you're all loud. You three would've never caught anyone!"

"Leave my friends out of this, Malfoy," Potter growled slightly.

"Oh sorry, I know it must be awful to be reminded of them, they are rather-"

"You know," Potter cut in rather rudely, "Perhaps if _you'd_ stop talking then there wouldn't' be so much noise."

Draco snorted imperiously, if such a thing was possible. "Next to your elephant feet my talking sounds like a whisper," Draco shot back.

"Just bloody shut your mouth, Malfoy!" Potter's voice rose.

"See, you're the loud one," Draco said, whispering for effect.

Potter let out a giant huff of a breath. Draco was happy to be getting under his skin; he was so easy to get to, but he fell quiet, waiting for a good time to say something again.

"We're not going to catch anyone," Draco said after a few minutes had passed. He smirked when Potter's eyes flashed angrily from behind his glasses.

"I know! Not with you opening your fat mouth every five seconds!"

Draco's smirk became more pronounced. "Do you have no perception of time, Potter? It's clearly been a few minutes since I opened my "fat mouth" as you so eloquently put it."

"Merlin, I cannot stand you! Why do you have to try your very hardest to give me hell? Do you really have nothing more interesting in your life?"

"Actually I have a lot of things in my life that are _far_ more interesting than _you_, Potter. Do you not remember that I would be off shagging Pansy Parkinson right now if it weren't for you," Draco reminded him, he really was angry about that, as was his cock.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Do not tell me what to do."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Fuck off, Potter."

Potter suddenly stopped walking and moved over to the nearest wall before gently banging his forehead on it a few times in extreme frustration.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "You really are mentally deranged."

* * *

The rest of the night ended up going very slowly for Draco, he desperately needed a wank and that made it seem like the longest patrolling job he'd ever done. He and Potter argued the entire time, ensuring that they caught no one. Not even the dumbest fist year would've walked into the racket they'd made.

When they finally got to go to bed at midnight, they were both so annoyed and angry that they couldn't get to sleep, even _after_ a good wank on Draco's part. Draco didn't know what time Potter went to sleep, just that he dreamed again. It was three a.m. before his own eyes finally closed.

* * *

Comment, because then I'll love you.: D 


	7. update

The story _has_ been updated, just go back and read chapter six. It didn't notify you guys because I put chapter three over the author note and forgot that it would do this! Oh well… yay for chapter six! And I drew some cover art for this fic! The link for the art is not working so just head over to my livejournal. My username on LJ is sayingsorry (underslash) hh. Tell me what you thought of the art in your review:) Zomg I hate how won't let you use underslashes! when you type in my name on LJ don't type in the WORD underslash just an underslash will do and there are no spaces. Sooo confusing, I know, but I can't help that this site is dumb sometimes...


	8. Cursed with a Case of Malfoy

**I think there might have been some confusion with the last update, if you haven't read chapter six yet, then go back and read it before reading chapter seven.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven: Cursed with a Case of Malfoy**

"She can't ignore us forever, can she?" Ron asked, staring at Hermione seated five spots away.

Harry shrugged and grabbed some toast to spread marmalade on. "If Hermione had the ability to ignore us forever, she'd have stopped talking to us around second year," he said simply. It wasn't that he didn't care that Hermione wasn't talking to him; it was just that he didn't much feel like dwelling upon her behavior any more than he already had.

Ron gave Harry a frustrated look and then went back to staring at Hermione. "Hermione!" he called down the table.

She didn't respond and continued on talking to Neville like she hadn't heard Ron at all. Neville looked nervous and mouthed the word "sorry" to him while Hermione was taking a bite of food.

Ron let out a great sigh and flopped back in his seat. "We should've never done rounds together on Friday," he said dejectedly.

Harry didn't even look up from his plate of food. He'd had this conversation with Ron more times then he could count over the weekend. "I agree, but really Ron, must you bring this up again?"

Ron ignored the fact that Harry was sick of talking about Friday night, perhaps because of some sick need for self chastisement or perhaps (like Harry had been thinking for awhile now) because he was merely in love. "Why did you listen to me, Harry?" he asked firmly.

Harry sighed and finally looked up at Ron. "Because I'm an idiot," he said.

"You certainly are for listening to me! Hermione _told_ us we would get caught and then we did and she got in trouble too! We're arseholes!" Ron looked positively deflated and Harry held back a snort.

"Ron, do you know how many times we've done something Hermione told us not to? Do you know how many times we've gotten her in trouble right along with us? A _lot_, that's how many. Every time it happens she stops talking to us for awhile, and she's given you _personally_ the silent treatment _loads_ of times. You argue with her a thousand times a day! Why do you care so much?" Harry stared at Ron with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"She doesn't _usually_ stop talking to me. She's really angry this time! I can tell!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, his face heavy with skepticism. "Whatever you say," he sighed, going back to his breakfast. He wondered if he should just tell Ron to ask Hermione out, but he also thought that it could possibly make things worse. Ron would probably deny that he fancied her and wait even longer to make his move.

"Well, she is," Ron said, on the verge of actually pouting. Oh yes, he had it bad.

"Ron, really, I'm sick of talking about Friday. We didn't intentionally get Hermione in trouble, and she knows that. Honestly, we only lost 20 house points. She'll be talking to us again by dinner, if not sooner, so drop it. It's just about all you've talked about, _and_ I've had to deal with getting the blame from Malfoy all weekend for this mess. No more, _please_."

Ron turned back to his meal, looking disgruntled.

Harry, once again, returned to his own food. He hoped that Hermione _would_ be talking to them before dinner, if only to shut Ron up. The three of them had gotten heavily chastised by McGonagall when she'd found them together on Friday, and she'd taken house points of course, but it was hardly the worst trouble they'd ever been in. Malfoy had come off far worse then Harry had. He'd not only gotten fifty points taken from Slytherin, but also two nights of detention with Snape.

The weekend couldn't have been over quick enough, and Harry was very glad it was Monday again, but Monday was Care of Magical Creatures and Potions, two classes with the Slytherins in one day. Harry was beginning to think that someone had cursed him with having to spend as much time with Malfoy as humanly possible. At least Care of Magical Creatures was with Hagrid and not with a teacher who blatantly favored Malfoy.

A couple of minutes found Harry and Ron walking across the grounds towards Hagrid's. Hermione was walking with Neville, Seamus, and Dean and Ron kept throwing glances at her. Harry quickly found Hagrid in an attempt to escape Ron's temporary insanity.

"Hello, Hagrid," he said happily when he came up beside him.

Hagrid smiled down at him. "Oh, er, hi, Harry," he said, stumbling through his sentence awkwardly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What're we doing today?" he asked apprehensively.

Hagrid fumbled and then dropped a little box of what appeared to be dried meat that he had gripped in his hand. "We're goin' ter be workin' with Jarveys," he said offhandedly, not meeting Harry's eyes. He bent down and took quite a bit of time picking the box back up. When he stood again, Harry could definitely see that Hagrid was looking a little suspicious.

Harry's immediate thought was, _Oh Merlin, what sort of monster does he have now?_ "Hagrid…" he began, but Ron picked that moment to wander over.

"Mornin', Ron," Hagrid said quickly, thumping Ron on the back. "Where's Hermione?"

Ron gave a half-hearted shrug, but then answered, "Over there." He gestured over his shoulder.

Hagrid looked confused. "Why's she over…" but then he caught Harry's eye. "Are you three fightin'?" he asked accusingly.

Harry was quick to answer, not wanting Ron to begin ranting about Hermione again. "No, not fighting really. It's just that Hermione's not talking to us at the moment, we got her into trouble. Surely you heard about what happened on Friday, not that it's really any big deal."

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall mentioned it ter me when she… um…" Hagrid suddenly paused, looking awkward, "Why don't we get started on terday's work?" he said, swiftly changing the subject. "Gather 'round over here, class," he bellowed out to everyone.

Harry exchanged a puzzled look with Ron, who shrugged, and they followed Hagrid over to a bunch of tables set up beside the garden.

Blast-Ended Skrewt-sized wooden crates sat atop each table along with a box of meat, the same type Hagrid had been carrying. Harry looked at the crates warily, wondering what sorts of horrors lay waiting within.

"What are Jarveys?" he asked Ron quietly as everyone gathered around the tables.

"Is that what's in those crates?" asked Ron with interest.

"Well, that's what Hagrid said we'd be dealing with today. Do you know what they are?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, but I've never seen one. I think they live underground mostly."

"What do they do?" asked Harry, still sounding nervous.

"They can talk; sound cool from what I've heard. Fred and George told me about them. They tried to catch one in their second year."

Harry nodded in appreciation, glad that he wouldn't have to fear for his life during today's lesson, when suddenly someone spoke up from behind him.

"That's not all they do," came Hermione's voice. "They're also very helpful with rodent control."

Harry and Ron both turned to face her, Ron on the verge of beaming.

"Are you talking to us again then?" asked Harry with a small smirk. _Thank God_, he thought to himself.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, I suppose so, although I don't think either of you deserve it."

"We're sorry, Hermione," Ron cut in hurriedly. "We were gits and we won't patrol together anymore."

Hermione seemed satisfied with Ron's response and she smiled at him, even if it was a bit tight-lipped. It seemed she finally had him reasonably trained after six years. Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"What?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head in amusement. "Nothing," he said.

"Alright everyone, over here! C'mon over here!" Hagrid was beckoning the class toward him and everyone moved from the tables to gather in a circle around their Professor.

"Alright, so, terday we're gonna be takin' a look at Jarveys. Some o' yeh might know what they are?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air, along with a few other students.

"Seamus, do you know?" asked Hagrid.

"Aren't they rat-looking things that can talk?" asked Seamus.

"Well, they look more like big ferrets, actually," said Hagrid, and there was a collective giggle that seemed to course though the entire class as everyone turned their heads to look at Malfoy.

Malfoy's face and ears turned pink and he somehow managed to glare at every single person staring at him.

Hagrid cleared his throat loudly and Harry could tell that he was trying to hide his amusement, but failing miserably. "Anyway, yeah Seamus, they can talk. Mostly they only repeat things over an' over, often rude things, so don' take anythin' the Jarveys say to yeh too personally." He smiled around at everyone and then clapped his massive hands together.

"Right, well, we're gonna be learnin' how ter feed 'em and groom 'em terday. Jarveys can get real overexcited, so yer gonna have ter- erm- have partners fer this." There it was, Hagrid was sounding suspicious again. Harry wondered why on earth needing partners made Hagrid sound like he was almost dreading something.

"Well, I'll just… erm- pair yeh up then…" he continued, his eyes not coming anywhere near Harry's.

Harry, just like every time partners in classes were required, moved automatically towards Ron, and Hermione began walking over to Neville, but Hagrid called out her name.

"Hermione, why don' yeh work with Ron?" he asked hastily. "You two can take the Jarvey over at the table in the back there."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all exchanged looks of mild surprise. Why would Hagrid disturb their usual partner routine?

Ron shrugged and moved with a slightly perplexed-looking Hermione over to the table Hagrid had indicated.

Harry began walking towards Neville now, but Hagrid called out _his_ name this time. Harry stopped and turned around. Hagrid's face had gone a little red and he looked like he really didn't want to say what it was he was going to say.

"Harry, erm… why don't you… er, go ahead and … work with Malfoy…" he stammered out, trying to sound cheerful.

Harry's mouth dropped slightly and he stared at Hagrid in disbelief. Everyone in the class looked shocked, Lavender even let out a small gasp of surprise. Surely Harry had heard wrong.

"What?" he asked flatly.

Hagrid pretended not to hear him. "You and Malfoy can, er, take that table over there."

Harry raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to protest furiously, but Malfoy beat him to it.

"Certainly not!" came his voice from across the circle of people. "I'm not working with Potter!"

"Yeh'll do as I tell yeh to, Malfoy," Hagrid said sternly, but he threw Harry an apologetic look.

Malfoy glared fiercely and Harry just continued to stare at Hagrid in complete shock. "But Hagrid- _why_?" he asked after a moment.

Hagrid shuffled his feet and stared guiltily at the ground. "I figure everyone needs a bit o' change every once in awhile," he said in a low voice, and then he moved right on to pairing up Lavender and Parvati.

Harry _was_ cursed, there was no other explanation. He stood rooted to the spot, thinking that perhaps Hagrid would turn back to him and tell him that he was only kidding, but nothing of the sort happened.

It wasn't until Hagrid had paired up the entire class that Harry even moved at all.

"Erm, we can' start until everyone has a Jarvey," Hagrid said sheepishly to Harry and Malfoy.

Harry looked over at Malfoy, who was standing with his arms firmly crossed, looking at Hagrid as if he wanted to wring his neck.

"Erm, Harry… Malfoy?" Hagrid was looking at them expectantly.

So he really wasn't playing a terrible joke then. Harry stood in the same spot for another few seconds, mouth and body slack. But when Hagrid said nothing more, he shook his head one last time, unsure of what alternate universe he had landed in, before dragging his feet over to the only free table left.

Malfoy let out a very angry huff and glared hatefully at Hagrid for a moment before he too moved over to the table.

"This is ridiculous!" he said heatedly to Harry, and Harry found himself completely agreeing.

"Alright, now we can start," Hagrid said, once everyone was ready. He sounded relieved to be finished with pairing up the class. "Jarveys're really quite aggressive when they're bein' groomed, which is why we're gonna feed 'em first. Right, there should be boxes o' dried rat meat on all yer tables, some o' yeh might have gnome, but it don' matter, Jarveys'll eat either. Do yeh all have yer meat then?"

The class nodded as a whole and Hagrid grinned at them all. "Good, now when I tell yeh, take the lids off yer crates. Jarveys don' like the light too much, so don' be too quick ter put yer fingers inside. Once yeh've got yer lids off, go ahead and put in some meat, an' that should calm 'em down. Then yeh can come up here an' get some clippers ter trim their claws up."

There was another collective nod from the class. "Alrigh', go ahead an' open up the crates then."

Harry looked to Malfoy who rolled his eyes. Sighing, Harry reached forward and took off the lid of the crate.

"Oy, you overgrown pillock!" came a high voice from inside. Harry looked in to see a grayish-colored ferret, well, Jarvey, squinting up at him. "What d'ya think you're doing?!"

Harry stared at the creature in interest, and when he looked up, he saw that Malfoy was looking at it out of the corner of his eye.

"Put some meat in, will you?" Harry asked him.

Malfoy rolled his eyes again, but picked up the box of rat meat. "What are you, useless, Potter?" he asked as he opened the box and threw some dried rat in the crate.

Harry sighed and didn't even retort.

They both stood there as their Jarvey munched on its meat, taking turns throwing more into the crate. Every once in a while the Jarvey would spit out an insult, "You're a gigantic wanker! You smell like the loo! Don't come any closer you barmy bugger!" until it was reasonably settled down and simply glared up at them.

Harry went up to obtain some clippers from Hagrid who smiled at him cautiously before handing them over. Harry didn't glare really, but he didn't smile either.  
When he'd gotten back to the table, Malfoy was having a little row with the Jarvey.

"You little twat!" he was exclaiming. "I most certainly do not have fat fingers!"

Harry snorted as he set the clippers upon the table.

"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy said angrily, but Harry just laughed even more.

Malfoy glared at him until his laughter had died out. "Are you quite finished?" he asked irritably.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Do you want to clip the nails or should I? I wouldn't want the Jarvey to think your fingers are sausages or anything."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "You're an arsehole," he said icily.

"No more than you," Harry replied simply, and then he picked the clippers up and went for the Jarvey.

"Your fingers are even fatter then the other one's!" the stupid animal cried out as it tried to escape Harry and his clippers.

Malfoy let out a low chuckle. "Maybe the brainless animal's not so bad," he said.

"Oh, shut it," Harry said, annoyed.

"So you can dish it out but can't take it? Is that it Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's an animal, Malfoy. Hagrid said it would be rude, it's in its nature… kind of like other ferret-like creatures around here," he added under his breath. He was still trying to get the Jarvey to hold still but it continued to squawk insults and run around the crate. "Ugh! I thought feeding it was supposed to calm it down!" he exclaimed in frustration as the Jarvey wriggled its paw out of his hand for the fifth time.

"Make it hold still," Malfoy said, arms crossed over his chest again.

"I can't clip its nails and make it hold still at the same time! Grab it and hold  
it down!" Harry said heatedly. Malfoy was such a prick.

He stared at the Jarvey with distaste.

"Malfoy!" Harry cried angrily.

Malfoy finally reached into the crate and quickly grabbed the animal round the middle.

"Thank you," Harry said sarcastically, and then he leant in underneath Malfoy's head to get to the Jarvey. "Hold- its- paw!" he said through clenched teeth.

"I can't see with your mop of hair in my face!" Malfoy exclaimed, but he managed to grab hold of the paw anyway.

"Good, now just stay right like that," Harry said, and he clipped the first nail.  
It was an awkward position they were in. Harry's head was crammed up underneath Malfoy's face. One of Malfoy's hands was holding the Jarvey round the waist, while the other held the paw steady, and Harry's arms were all twisted up with Draco's, looped around them, but he didn't want to untangle himself in fear that the Jarvey would escape again.

He concentrated on clipping the nails, which was hard to do as the Jarvey kept wiggling and squirming, trying to get away. It was also spiting insult after insult now, each of them getting more and more offensive. "Okay, hold another paw," Harry said after a few minutes.

Malfoy let the one paw go and scrambled around for another, and it was then that Harry noticed that Malfoy was rather tense. His hands looked whiter and rigid and Harry wondered why.

"I'm not getting any younger here, Potter!" Malfoy said heatedly, his voice maybe a little higher then usual, though Harry couldn't be sure.

"Alright, alright," and Harry went to work on the Jarvey's nails.

Another few minutes passed, and then another few, and finally Harry was finished.

Malfoy was very quick to disentangle himself, and looked a bit shaken for some strange reason. Harry didn't comment. Who knew what issues the git secretly harbored?

"Hagrid, we're finished!" he called up to the front, and Hagrid came striding over to their table.

He bent and examined the Jarvey closely, looking at each of its claws. "Good job," he said happily, but still with a cautious note. "Just dump what's left o' yer meat inside the crate an' put the lid back on."

Malfoy dumped in the meat and Harry put the lid on the crate while Hagrid went wandering around the rest of the students, seeing who was finished.

Harry and Malfoy stood in silence, Malfoy with his arms crossed again and Harry with his hands in his pockets. He wondered when the silence between them had grown awkward instead of heated.

Finally, Dean and Seamus, who'd had a rather nasty Jarvey, declared themselves finished and Hagrid dismissed the class.

Malfoy ran off very quickly to join his friends and Harry made his way over to Ron and Hermione.

"Why the bloody hell did he stick you with Malfoy?" Ron asked with a dark look as soon as Harry was in earshot.

Harry returned the look. "I have absolutely no idea," he said, sounding annoyed. "I'm going to ask him."

Working with Malfoy really hadn't been _too_ horrible, but Harry still wanted to know exactly why _Hagrid_, who disliked Malfoy almost as much as Harry did, would pair them up.

"I'm sure he had a good reason, Harry," Hermione said seriously. "Don't go getting on his case without knowing why he did it."

"Why do you think I'm going to ask him?" Harry asked irritably.

"I'm just saying," Hermione said, putting her hands up in defense.

Harry just stared at her for a second. "Are you guys coming with me?" he asked.  
Ron and Hermione quickly nodded and followed Harry over to Hagrid, who was busy gathering the empty meat boxes.

"Hagrid, why did you pair me with Malfoy?" Harry asked very severely, sounding almost like a male McGonagall or even worse— Hermione.

Hagrid pretended not to notice Harry.

"Hagrid," Harry said warningly and Hagrid slowly turned to face him.

"I already told yeh, I thought it might be time fer a bit 'o change," he mumbled.

"And so you pair me with _Malfoy_?" Harry asked incredulously, not believing a word of what Hagrid was saying.

"Well, you boys're Head Boys an' all an' Professor McGonagall said that we should try an' do all that we could to help you two get along..."

"_Who_ said that?" asked Harry murderously.

"Erm… Professor McGonagall," Hagrid repeated quietly.

Harry's eyes narrowed. Why would Professor McGonagall be saying things about him and Malfoy? "Are all the teachers talking about us?" he asked heatedly.

"Erm… there was a meetin', but-"

"There was a meeting? Are you all trying to figure out ways to make us get along?" Harry asked, getting angrier. What gave _anyone_ the right to try and _make_ him get along with someone?!

"Well, Dumbledore said that we should-"

Harry cut him off again. "Dumbledore? Did he put you all up to this?"

"Well I wouldn' say 'he put us up to it,' he only said that- well, actually, ter be honest, I haven' talked ter Dumbledore me self. He's been so busy doin' things for the Order, and he even set up a place fer Grawpy in the forest, I just haven' talked to him much, but Professor McGonagall said that Dumbledore wants us teachers ter try an' get you two ter get along better." Hagrid look almost ashamed, but defiant at the same time.

Harry's eyes narrowed even further. "If Malfoy and I are getting the job done, then why does it matter?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Hagrid winced. "Yeh can see why Dumbledore would want yeh ter get along."

"No, actually, I can't."

"Well, if yeh look at it his way, then yeh could see it."

Harry crossed his arms. "Please, Hagrid, by all means, explain to me  
what 'Dumbledore's way' is," he said, voice filled with mock curiosity.

Hagrid was looking a little stern now as he opened his mouth to speak. "If yeh look at it his way," he repeated, "then yeh could see that he's thinkin' of what's best fer Hogwarts, and both you boys."

"You're not giving me any answers here, Hagrid," Harry said rather rudely. Hermione gave him a _look_, but he ignored it. He was past caring about being polite and really felt like hitting something.

"Dumbledore knows that you two need ter get along fer all the houses ter stop bein' so… so…"

"Segregated?" Hermione offered.

"Yeah, that's the word," Hagrid said appreciatively. "If you two started gettin' along, then the other students might follow yeh."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of," Harry said angrily, and he really believed it. "No one is going to do something just because we do, and it's ridiculous to think that Malfoy and I are ever going to get along anyway. It's a complete and total lost cause."

"You don' know how much everyone looks up to yeh, Harry! With you bein' who you are, an' Malfoy bein' as… influential… as he is, nothin' but good could come of it."

"But that's just the thing!" Harry cried. "It doesn't matter who I am or who Malfoy is! We _cannot_ get along! It's impossible, _impossible_, Hagrid! _No_ good will come of it!"

Hagrid waved his hand dismissively and accidentally knocked Ron sideways. "Oh, er, sorry, Ron," he said, and then he turned back to Harry. "Nothin's impossible," he said firmly.

"A lot of things are impossible," Harry said just as firmly. "It's impossible to bring people back from the dead, it's impossible to block the Killing Curse, and it's impossible for me and Malfoy to ever get along." Harry knew he was being a little immature now, but once again, he was past caring.

"Those are very different things, Harry, an' you know it!" Hagrid said gruffly. "An' this isn' just about Hogwarts either. Think of what good it'll do fer Malfoy ter be away from the Slytherins an' around you! He might change over to our side if he spends enough time with yeh!"

Harry's mouth dropped. "So Dumbledore's using me?" he asked incredulously. "He's using me to promote House unity and to try and get Malfoy to join our side?"

Hagrid looked as if Harry had just slapped him 'round the face. "How could yeh say somethin' like that, Harry?" he asked. "You know Dumbledore would never use yeh! You know that he only does what he thinks will bring the most good, an' if that means that you an' Malfoy have got ter learn ter get along, then that's what it means!"

Harry glared now. "This is all pointless," he said. "Hogwarts' students could care less what Malfoy and I do, Malfoy's never gong to change, and once again, Malfoy and I will _never_ get along, _ever_."

Hagrid shook his head. "Yer just bein' stubborn, Harry," he said.

"Oh, well excuse me if I don't like that I'm being forced to be with the one person in this school who I cannot stand!" Harry was near shouting now. "What's going to be next? Is Flitwick going to suddenly have classes with Gryffindor and Slytherin? McGonagall too?"

Hagrid flinched again. "Harry, c'mon now-"

Harry cut him off again. "No, it's bollocks!" he cried, losing all composure.

"Harry!" Hermione let out, surprised.

"No, Hermione! I don't need people trying to rule my life anymore than they already do!" Harry nearly shouted at her, and then he turned back to Hagrid. "I'm glad I can count on you to take my side at least, Hagrid," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're a real great friend."

"Aw, Harry, I- yeh know I wouldn' do nothin' that I thought was bad! And if Dumbledore-"

"See you, Hagrid, I have class," Harry said coldly, and he turned and began making his way up to the school.

Hermione and Ron gave Hagrid apologetic looks and then ran to catch up with Harry, leaving Hagrid looking crestfallen behind them.

"Mate, don't you think that was a bit…" Ron said.

"Harsh?" Hermione finished.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said stonily.

Ron and Hermione exchanged concerned looks, and they all three made their way to their Charms lesson in silence.

* * *

Feedback is seriously like heroin to me :P 


	9. When the World Works Against You

Thanks to my betas winnett and beautifulrain, you guys rule!

* * *

**Chapter Eight: When the World Works Against You**

Jarveys were ridiculous creatures; really, they were. Draco didn't want to clip their nails or feed them, or touch their filthy, little hides for that matter, and he really didn't want to do it while standing beside the most irksome person in the entire world.

He was angry that Hagrid had paired him with Potter, and even more angry because he didn't know _why_. Why had Hagrid paired them together? The oaf knew that they didn't like each other, and Hagrid was Potter's fucking _friend_! It didn't make any damn sense.

"It's an animal, Malfoy," Potter was retorting to Draco's comment. "Hagrid said it would be rude, it's in its nature." Then he mumbled something, but Draco ignored it.

"Ugh! I thought feeding it was supposed to calm it down!" Potter continued, frustrated. He seemed to be having a really difficult time with the Jarvey they were supposed to be grooming.

"Hold it still," Draco said with little interest, crossing his arms over his chest. He smirked when Potter made a heated reply.

"I can't clip its nails and hold it still at the same time!" Potter said angrily. "Grab it and hold it down!"

Draco stared at the Jarvey with distaste. It really was just the sort of animal their idiot of a professor would choose for them to study. If something lacked the ability to physically abuse, something that verbally abused was _obviously_ the next best thing.

"Malfoy!" Potter cried impatiently.

Draco scowled and grudgingly reached into the crate to grab the stupid animal around the middle.

"Thank you," Potter said in his annoying, sarcastic way of speaking, and then he leant in underneath Draco's head to reach the Jarvey. Draco was quite affronted with Potter's head shoved into his face.

"Hold- its- paw!" Potter growled.

"I can't see with your mop of hair in my face!" Draco exclaimed. He used his free hand to feel around in the crate for a moment and managed to skillfully grab hold of the paw, even without being able to see anything.

"Good, now just stay right like that," Potter demanded rudely.

Draco rolled his eyes and didn't move, holding the Jarvey tightly. He couldn't see what Potter was doing; no doubt he couldn't handle the annoying creature, even with Draco helping him. He was certainly moving around enough, probably to bother Draco as much as possible.

They ended up in quite an awkward position. Potter's movements had pulled Draco even closer so that Potter's head was _crammed_ up underneath Draco's face. One of Draco's hands was holding the Jarvey around the waist while the other held the paw steady, and Potter's arms were all twisted up with his, looped around them.

Draco was about to protest the way they were tangled up and took a deep breath through his nose to sigh angrily. It was then that he noticed something really quite strange.

Draco blinked a few times, confused. He took another tentative nose-full of air and paused, even more confused.

It was very bizarre, and Draco didn't want to admit it, but Potter _smelled_ good. No, he didn't just smell good, but he smelled _good_, like something you want to _keep_ smelling. Draco was mortified.

He frowned and began to hold his breath, actually a bit disturbed by Potter's smell. A few seconds passed and he remembered that he could breathe through his mouth. It didn't help much.

Now he could smell Potter's hair _and_ sort of taste the smell of it.

It was more than a little disconcerting that Potter smelled good at all. It wasn't as if Draco had expected him to smell _bad_ if he ever had the chance to smell him, but he hadn't expected him to smell so very _good_. Actually, Draco had never expected anything at all about the way Potter smelled. He didn't think about things like that; however, when someone's hair is shoved right into your nose, it's hard not to notice it.

Draco could definitely smell Potter's shampoo – he was familiar with its scent, as he had used it several times himself – but he could also smell something else mixed with it that he couldn't identify. He couldn't even say what he _thought_ it smelled like because it didn't really smell like anything he'd ever smelled before.

Draco pondered it for a moment. He'd gotten dressed with Potter almost everyday for the past week and had never seen him put any product on his hair or wear cologne, so that wasn't it. Draco had never seen Potter do anything to his hair except shuffle it with his hands before leaving to get dressed. Perhaps he put something in it when he got upstairs? Draco doubted that. But, if Potter did nothing to his hair but wash it, then why _did_ it smell so good?

Draco didn't like the thought that it might simply be Potter's own smell mixed with the shampoo that made his hair smell good. He took another little sniff and tensed up; it was too strange to be _smelling_ _Harry Potter's_ _hair_.

"Okay, hold another paw," came Potter's voice, and Draco tensed up even more. He wondered if Potter had noticed him sniffing his hair.

He quickly let the paw go and scrambled around for another, wanting class to be over _very_ much now. Potter took a little more time than needed to get started on the clipping, and it made Draco rather nervous. What if Scarhead _had_ noticed that Draco had smelled his hair? He did _not_ like the thought of that at all. He wasn't some hair-smelling weirdo!

"I'm not getting any younger here, Potter!" Draco said heatedly, and cringed when he heard his voice crack the slightest bit.

Potter, thankfully, didn't seem to notice, because he said, "Alright, alright," and finally went to work on the Jarvey's nails.

Agonizing minutes passed, and then a few more, and finally Potter was finished. Draco was very quick to disentangle himself and put distance between them.

"Hagrid, we're finished!" Potter called up to the front, and Hagrid came stomping over to their table.

He bent and examined the Jarvey closely; Draco wished that he would just hurry up.

"Good job," Hagrid said. "Just dump what's left o' yer meat inside the crate an' put the lid back on."

Draco dumped in the meat, and Potter put the lid on the crate while Hagrid went wandering around the rest of the students, seeing who had finished.

Draco and Potter stood in silence, Draco with his arms crossed again and Potter with his hands stuffed in his pockets. The silence between them had grown awkward and Draco kept his eyes fixed on the table, glaring at it, trying not to think of Potter's disturbing hair-smell.

Finally, Thomas and Finnigan, idiot wonders, declared themselves finished and Hagrid dismissed the class.

Draco left Potter as quickly as he could, not even sparing him a single glance.

He walked straight over to Blaise and Pansy, who were waiting for him.

Blaise raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "What the _fuck_ was that about?" he asked.

Draco scowled and looked over at Hagrid. "Fucking idiot," he muttered.

"I thought the oaf _liked_ Potter," Pansy said, looping her arm through Draco's as the three began to make their way up to their Transfiguration lesson.

"He does," said Draco.

"Then why would he pair him with _you_?" asked Blaise.

Draco threw him a dirty look.

Blaise gave a slightly amused smile. "Not that Potter isn't the luckiest person ever, you know, getting to be paired with the incredible Draco Malfoy and all," he said sarcastically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Blaise chuckled. "I'm only paying you a compliment."

"No, you're being a bastard, like usual."

Blaise chuckled again. "Taking your anger out on me, I see," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Shut up," he repeated.

Blaise chuckled _again_.

"Really, Blaise, do shut up," Pansy said this time.

Blaise smirked. "Well," he said, "I can tell when I'm not wanted." He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "I'll just leave you two alone. I'm sure you can do a wonderful job _comforting_ him, Pansy," he added before walking off to join Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Pansy glared after him, but then turned her attention to Draco once again. "He's such an arse," she said.

Draco shrugged, stuffing his free hand into his pocket.

They walked in silence for a bit, Draco still seething about Potter's hair and being paired with him for the class.

"So…" said Pansy once they'd gotten into the castle, "I got a letter from my mum and dad this morning."

Draco sighed; he'd gotten a letter from his mother that morning, too.

"They both seemed angry, but I could tell they were glad it was with you," Pansy continued.

"Yes, that was how my mother reacted as well, although I don't think she'd be very happy to get another letter from McGonagall. We shouldn't be caught at that anymore," said Draco flatly. He didn't feel much like discussing _things_ with Pansy again.

"I agree," said Pansy quietly, and then, right out of the blue, she pulled them into a nook they were passing.

Taken off guard, Draco stood frozen for a moment while Pansy began to plunder his mouth. As soon as he realized her intentions, he responded eagerly; blowjobs in corridors were always such a turn-on, and he knew that that was exactly what was about to happen.

Sure enough, Pansy ripped her mouth away from Draco's and dropped to her knees before him. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, ready. He laughed inwardly at how routine it had become.

She unzipped his trousers, pulled them down to his ankles, and then did the same to his underwear. Pansy liked to touch the skin of Draco's legs and arse as she sucked him off, or at least that's what Draco had concluded; she pulled his trousers all the way down _every single fucking time_, no matter how much Draco protested.

She stroked him, working his cock fully hard, and he bit his lip. Soon after that her mouth was on him, and Draco's brain stopped all higher functions.

It didn't take terribly long, even if Draco had become used to it. A couple of minutes had passed and Pansy was pulling his trousers back up for him, buttoning them closed. He raised an eyebrow at her as she stood in front of him.

"That was rather unexpected," Draco said, straightening his tie.

"You looked like you needed it," Pansy said with a smirk.

"How considerate of you."

"No problem."

Draco laughed, glad that something was able to put Potter out of his mind for the moment. He pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the nook, continuing on his way to class like nothing at all had happened. Pansy followed quickly behind him.

They ended up being about five minutes late, and every single person in the class knew exactly why. Draco took his seat smugly, knowing that McGonagall realized what he and Pansy had been up to, and that she couldn't do a thing about it. She took five points from each of them for being late, but really, what was ten points compared to a blowjob in the halls?

The rest of the day didn't really allow Draco to dwell on much of anything except school. The fact it was N.E.W.T. year was beginning to really weigh down on him and the teachers were apparently finished with letting the seventh-years slack off.

Draco's last class of the day was Potions. Snape was already there when Draco arrived at the door, and so he entered the classroom and took his usual seat in the front.

He chatted with Blaise a bit before the lesson started, and as soon as the bell rang he, along with the rest of the class, fell silent.

Snape got to his feet and stood at the front of the room. "Do not remove your things," he said, as everyone had just begun reaching into their bags to get quills and parchment. "Today's potion requires a delicate touch, attention to fine details and your complete concentration. I will not tolerate any marks," he turned to face the side of the room mostly occupied with Gryffindors, "below an Acceptable."

Draco smirked over at Potter, who wasn't looking too happy.

"As you all know, it is your seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and if any of you _aren't_ aware of that, then I suggest you remove yourself from my classroom right now." Nobody moved. Snape stared them all down for a moment, but soon continued on. "Since you all seem to be aware that it's your seventh year, I will assume you also know that N.E.W.T.s are coming up. Your Potions N.E.W.T will be taxing, the potions you will be tested on are some of the most difficult there are to brew, and the one we'll be working on today is no different.

"You'll be making a Blood-Replenishing Potion. It is indispensable in any infirmary and exceptionally useful on the battlefield. For any potion that replenishes so important a substance in your body, perfection is absolutely necessary. One mistake and you could be taking someone's life instead of returning it."

Draco smirked, wanting to get started. He excelled at Potions and knew it.

"This potion demands such precision, that it will be impossible to finish in class unaided. There simply is not enough time in the year for every one of you to brew every potion separately. We have much to cover, and so you'll require partners."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Well, that was interesting.

Snape continued on still. "Do not begin to assume that having a partner will allow you to slack off. You will still be required to take part in every aspect of the potion, even if that aspect is your partner's responsibility. You must learn all of it; you will not have partners during you N.E.W.T. examinations. So that you're not tempted, I think _I_ will select who you will be working with; friends will not make good assistants in this class." And with that, Snape cleared his throat and began announcing names.

Draco glanced at Blaise, who was frowning and staring at Snape raptly.

"Bulstrode and Longbottom," Snape proclaimed, and Draco raised an eyebrow. _That_ was quite an odd pair.

"Goyle and Finnigan." Draco's brow rose a little higher; that was… quite an odd pairing as well.

"Weasley and Zabini." Oh, sweet Merlin. What. The. Fuck?

"Brown and Parkinson." What was Snape doing?!

It went on, and Draco watched as each and every single Slytherin was stuck with a Gryffindor. All of the students in the class dwindled away, until the only person left was…

"Potter and Malfoy." Oh, God, no.

Draco couldn't believe it. What were the fucking chances of being paired with Potter _twice_ in _one day_?! What the hell was Snape doing?!

Everyone seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because not a single person rose from their seat.

Snape stared at them all for a few seconds. "Move!" he yelled when it seemed the class had been accidentally glued to their seats.

There were maybe a few more seconds of silence, as if they were all waiting for Snape to admit he was joking, but when nothing of the sort came, everyone began slowly gathering their things and moving to sit next to their partners, grumbling quietly. No one dared protest - it wasn't worth the house points.

Blaise got slowly to his feet and went to sit next to Weasley, looking as if he were marching to his death. Draco, scowling heavily, turned in his seat to stare at Potter from across the room.

Potter was looking at Snape disbelievingly; he looked even more shocked than he had earlier in Care of Magical Creatures.

"Is there something you need, Potter?" Snape asked disgustedly.

Potter didn't say anything.

"I believe I told the class to join their partners. Is that too difficult for you to understand?" Snape asked.

Potter seemed to come to himself then and he glared at Snape. "No _sir_, not at all," he spat, and he swung his bag over his shoulder like the buffoon he was, and came stomping over to sit in Blaise's empty seat.

Draco scowled at him once he'd sat down, but then looked back up at Snape, hoping that he might explain himself a little better.

Once everyone was settled, or at least as settled as they could be, Snape walked over to the blackboard and waved his wand. Words scrawled across almost every inch of the board and half the class gave quiet groans.

"As soon as you have your areas set up, start on your potion immediately. I should not have to tell you how to divide the work; it doesn't matter as long as the potion gets brewed. When class is finished, everyone should be at this stage." He waved his wand again, and a bold line appeared on the board underneath step 15. "If any of you fail to reach step fifteen, which is highly likely given some students in this class," he glared a Longbottom, "you will receive zeros for the day. Begin."

Draco frowned. That was it? Snape wasn't going to explain why he had paired everyone up with fucking Gryffindors?! What the fucking hell?

Draco stared at Snape, and he continued on staring until Snape told him to get working. Draco's frown deepened, but he reached down and pulled his bag up from the floor. He looked to his right and saw that Potter was still glaring, rather murderously, at Snape.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. He didn't want to be paired with Potter again! Didn't he have to see him enough as it was?

"Potter," he said heatedly, knowing that if they didn't get started on their potion, they wouldn't reach step fifteen.

"What?" Potter said angrily.

"We have to do this fucking potion. Take your things out."

Potter rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag. He began taking things from it and throwing them, pell-mell, all over the desk.

"Merlin, Potter! What are you trying to do, take an eye out?" Draco exclaimed when a quill came very close to hitting him in the face.

"Shut up," Potter said, bringing his hands up to rub at his temples.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "If I get a zero today because of you, I'll fucking hex you into next month."

"Just fucking shut the hell up and make the bloody potion." Potter said, sounding annoyed

Draco glared daggers at Potter. "No. I'm not going to do this thing all by myself. Start," he paused and looked up to see what step one was, "cutting up the herbs."

Potter's nose flared with anger, but he surprisingly picked up his knife and pulled the herbs toward him.

Draco frowned, but there was nothing he could say, as Potter had actually done what he had told him. He ignored it and got his own things from his bag. He began on step two: measuring out exactly one liter of Clabbert blood. He did it very carefully, and when he looked up again, it was to see Potter chopping up their herbs in a rough frenzy.

"Potter, you idiot!" Draco exclaimed loudly, snatching the knife from Potter's hand. "I know you have issues, but really! How on earth can you think that's the correct way to do that?!"

"You fucking do it then," Potter said, beginning to rub his temples again.

"I can't do this entire potion by myself! Believe me, I would if I could. Merlin, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Potter suddenly turned to face Draco. He looked very angry.

"Snape fucking paired us together on purpose," he said in a harsh half-whisper. "So did Hagrid this morning."

"What?" Draco asked blankly. He had no idea what Potter was blathering on about.

"They did it on purpose," Potter repeated. "Merlin, I was fucking angry with Hagrid this morning, but fuck. Even _Snape_ is going along with this? I just – fucking – what the fucking hell is he _thinking_?"

Draco was utterly confused now. "What the fucking hell are _you_ thinking?" Draco asked. "I have no bloody idea what you're talking about, Potter. What do you mean we're paired together on purpose?"

"All the teachers were told to try and do all that they could to help us get along better. They had a meeting about it."

Draco furrowed his brow. "And you know this how?"

"Hagrid told me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You would believe Hagrid," he said plainly.

Potter's eyes narrowed. "Hagrid's not brain-dead, Malfoy," he said dangerously. "If he said he was in a meeting about forcing us get along, then he was."

"What exactly did he say?"

Potter took a deep breath and let out an angry sigh, apparently trying to calm himself. "He said that McGonagall told all the teachers that they should try to help us get along in whatever way they could; he said Dumbledore told her to do it."

Draco was still confused. "Why on earth would they have a meeting all about trying to make us get along? What's the point?"

"_Apparently_," Potter began, his eyes flashing, "if we start to get along better, then all of Hogwarts will follow in our footsteps, and we'll help promote House unity, and peace, and friendship, and everyone will live happily together, skipping arm in arm," Potter said very sarcastically.

"Are you kidding me?" Draco asked unbelievingly.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why the hell would anyone think _that_?"

"That is exactly what I was wondering."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Yes, it is."

"Is there something keeping you from working?" Both boys jumped a little. Snape had come up right behind them without their noticing.

"No, sir, we were just discussing the potion," Draco said quickly, and he handed Potter the knife that he had snatched from him earlier.

"I suggest you get back to work," said Snape, and he moved from their desk to another.

Draco turned back to Potter as soon as Snape was gone. "_Snape_ went along with it too?" he asked quietly. It was hard to believe that Snape would do anything to make Draco get along with Potter.

"Obviously," said Potter as he began hacking at their herbs again.

"But _why_?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

"I'd rather not," Draco said warily. "And you're still not doing that right," he said, watching Potter's hands chop away.

Potter dropped the knife and crossed his arms. "You do it then, Oh Mighty Brewer of Potions."

Draco rolled his eyes. "We've already established that I can't do it by myself," he said flatly. "All I'm saying is that you're chopping is too violent. You're going to turn them into a powder if you don't stop, and we're supposed to have small strips." He reached over and took the knife again to show Potter the proper way to chop the herbs. "There, see."

Potter shook his head and took the knife back. Draco was pleased to see that when he resumed his task, it was with a much gentler hand. He went back to working on his own part of the potion, but still kept a sharp eye on Potter's work.

It went that way for awhile. They simply worked in silence, watching each other and taking occasional notes on what the other was doing. It was obvious that Potter was still angry; he kept throwing dirty looks at Snape and the frown on his face hadn't once left him.

Draco still couldn't believe that Snape was doing anything to help them get along. It didn't make any sense, but then again, Hagrid was Potter's friend and he had gone along with it. Snape wasn't exactly Draco's _friend_, but still. The entire situation was confusing and ridiculous and stupid.

Finally, when they both had nothing to do but wait for their potion to stew for a few minutes, Draco began their conversation again.

"Do you really think the teachers are forcing us to get along?" he asked.

"What other explanation is there?" Potter sounded tired, like all of his anger had worn him out.

Draco shrugged. "It just seems unlikely," he said bitterly.

"What other explanation is there?" Potter repeated. Hagrid _and_ Snape paired us together on the same day. Thank Merlin we don't have any other classes together, I don't think I can take much more of you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You don't think they'll try anything outside classes, do you?"

Potter's eyes flashed again. "My God, don't say that."

Draco frowned he hadn't realized just how much Potter hated him. He turned away and looked into their cauldron. "Just another minute or so and we can start on it again," he said.

Potter simply nodded and began rubbing his forehead again.

Draco stood in silence for a few seconds, but then turned to Potter again, suddenly angry. "It's not the end of the world you know."

Potter looked up at him. "What?"

"You act as if it's the worst thing in the entire world. It's only a fucking hour, two if we happen to be partners in Care of Magical Creatures."

Potter quirked an eyebrow. "What the hell are you on about?"

Draco didn't even know why he was suddenly angry. "You're an idiot, Potter and you blow things out of proportion."

Potter let out a choked laugh. "_I_ blow things out of proportion?" he asked incredulously. "Let's not even get started on the things you've blown out of proportion. Hippogriff in third year, ring any bells? How about every fucking article that's ever been in the paper about me or the Weasleys? Any alarms going off?"

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Just shut up," he said.

Potter dropped into his seat and put his face in his hands. Draco frowned again and began adding more ingredients to their potion.

"You don't care that we're being _used_ to promote House unity? That we're being _forced_ to work together?" Potter asked though his hands.

Draco stared at him. "Of course I care," he said. "I hate it as much as you do; you're just mental about it."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "I have no idea where you come off saying that I was being mental," he said, shaking his head. "This whole thing is pointless anyway, it's not like we're ever going to become friends."

"I suppose even you can be right about something every once in a while," Draco said scathingly. "But you are mental."

Potter rolled his eyes.

They ended up _just_ reaching step 15 with only a few minutes left in class, and Draco put a covering charm over their cauldron while Potter cleaned up.

Draco was thinking about writing his mother about having to be paired with Potter, but on second thought he figured that would be a little embarrassing; he wasn't thirteen anymore.

"I think we're just going to have to deal with this thing," Draco said quietly.

Potter stared. "Probably," he said after a second.

"Or go to Dumbledore."

Potter shrugged.

"Do you have any better suggestions?" Draco asked, annoyed with Potter's lack of words.

Potter didn't say anything.

"Do you _want_ to go to Dumbledore?"

"Not particularly."

"I'm happy that you're so articulate," Draco said sarcastically.

Potter rolled his eyes. "There's nothing we can do. The teachers are allowed to pair us with whoever they want, we can't tell them what to do."

"I'm sure if we went to Dumbledore we could get out of it," Draco said with no particular enthusiasm.

"Is it worth the trouble?"

Draco shrugged this time.

Potter sighed angrily. "I just fucking wish I could be allowed to make my own decisions, I am fucking seventeen."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," Potter said dismissively.

"Whatever," Draco said, and he leant in to grab his quill off the desk. In the process, he came into very close contact with Potter's hair again. He straightened up quickly and narrowed his eyes.

"What?" Potter asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," said Draco, and he turned and began packing his things up.

In another few minutes the bell rang and Blaise and Pansy were at Draco's side in seconds. He looked over and could see that the Weasel and Granger were coming. He grabbed his bag and hurriedly stuffed his parchment and quill into it. "Oh, Potter, one more thing," he said at the last second. Potter looked up at him. "You smell kind of funny. You might want to do something about that."

Potter looked at him, confused, and Draco smirked as he walked out of the classroom.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait guys, this chapter was a bit difficult to write for some reason. Hope you guys like it! Leave a review:)


End file.
